Panzer Soldier

hissing pop that said another Russian louse was cremated. Of those they had inspected only a few had the little gray cross on them that said they were the carriers of typhus. In the early days of the war you could get a couple of marks apiece for each of them you turned in to the medics for shipment back to Germany, where they were analyzed and tested. By now there were probably more of them in the Fatherland than in Russia.

Gus joyfully presented himself to regimental hospital. An hour later the doctor took a pair of pliers and simply pulled the two blackened toes off without the benefit of any anesthetic. Taking a pair of surgical scissors he trimmed up the edges, rinsed off the foot with a little raw alcohol, sprinkled it with sulfa powder and cursed him all the time for being a slackard and a defeatist. That there was no good reason for anyone to get frostbite if they only took proper care of themselves. It was treason not to take proper maintenance of an item that was the property of the state, even a piece of obviously defective equipment as the traitorous Stabsgefreiter clearly was. Gus asked the doctor how he'd like to have his ass stuck in a snow bank for three weeks and then see how much would be left after the Stabsgefreiter, by the grace of our Holy German or Austrian Fuhrer, took a pair of his pliers to it.

After Gus proceeded to describe what he could do with his pliers to other portions of the doctor's anatomy, he was hurriedly moved out to a hospital ward. The doctor made a note to have the man's mental condition tested. He was most certainly, at the least, a nonsocial and emotionally disturbed person who shouldn't be permitted to run around loose without professional supervision. At fifteen hundred hours Langer, Teacher and Yuri presented themselves to the sergeant major at regimental HQ. The clean uniforms and showers gave them a semblance of military appearance. The Knight's Cross around Langer's neck did more than anything else to give Schmitt a case of the jitters. You didn't get one of those for kissing babies. Taking their paybooks and papers, Schmitt knocked on the colonel's door and received permission to enter.

Returning, he told them to stand easy and wait. It would be a while; the colonel was busy. Ten minutes later a Blitzmadel left the colonel's office, looking pleased with herself. She took a look at the Knight's Cross holder and the man's rugged face and smiled, wet her lips, patted back her light brown hair done in an efficient bun, and exited after one more smile.

Schmitt knocked on the door and received permission to send Langer and the others in.

When they presented themselves, Yuri stayed slightly to the rear. He had never liked officers of any kind. Russian or German made no difference, they only meant one thing to him: trouble.

Colonel von Mancken peered at Langer and then Teacher. Pointing a manicured finger at Yuri, he inquired, 'What, may I ask, is that?'

'A volunteer, sir, one who has fought well for us,' he added. Von Mancken raised an eyebrow. 'I did not ask for a list of his merits. Sergeant. I asked what is he?'

'A Tatar, Sir.'

Von Mancken viewed the Asiatic with distaste, shaking his head. 'What is the Reich coming to when it uses the likes of a patently subhuman type to fight battles that should be won by the glorious feats of arms of Germany's Aryan youth? Indeed a sad state of affairs.' He dismissed the Tatar from his mind as he would have a dog or any beast.

'Sergeant Langer, I have made some inquiries.' He held Langer's and the others' paybooks and papers in front of him. A trace of envy touched him when he eyed the Knight's Cross and he promised himself to get one before much longer, and one with the oak leaves to it. It would certainly add greatly to his career.

'I have communicated with the commander of your former division and he referred me to the headquarters of Field Marshal von Manstein, who it appears awarded your decoration. It is his desire that you and your companions be given transport to a rest area. That includes your savage also.'

The colonel omitted the fact that he had been informed by the field marshal's aide de camp that the Herr Field Marshal did not like for anyone to cast doubts on the valor of anyone he had personally decorated, especially when such a person had been not in combat himself. It would most certainly not be pleasing to the Herr Field Marshal and could have unhappy results for anyone so shortsighted as to commit such an offense. Did the Herr Colonel understand? Or was he addressing a major? Ranks changed so rapidly at the front it was often quite difficult to keep track of all the demotions, they happened so rapidly.

Von Mancken returned his attention to the men in front of him. He was careful to keep control; one must not give vent to displays of emotion in front of the enlisted men. 'It will take a few days for orders to be prepared. Until that time you will have no duties here; just don't start any trouble. Schmitt will see to your quarter assignments. You're dismissed.'

Langer and Teacher clicked heels, saluted and left followed by a scowling Yuri. The Tatar could smell the envy and hate in the colonel. Well, maybe he would have to start a new collection of ears.

For Langer and his men, the next days were ones like they had not known for years. All the food they could eat and more. Gus ate like a barbarian king. His threats against the medical orderlies' private parts kept them in a state of constant fear and attendance. He gorged on sausage and cabbage, swilling it down with huge amounts of whatever was to be had, from Czech beer to medical alcohol cut with water and flavored with just a touch of iodine. He swore it tasted exactly like good Scotch whiskey.

Every time Yuri saw Stabswachtmeister Schmitt he would just smile and tug at his ear lobe. Schmitt kept as much space between himself and the little brown man from the steppes as possible.

The New Year was celebrated by a small party. The Blitzmadel decided to try the scar-faced tanker on for size. When they left the privacy of the storeroom they had used for their meeting, she could barely walk. Never had she experienced anything like that night. The Panzerman had put her through movements that she had only seen in school when they had studied the art of India. And she had snuck a forbidden look at a copy of the Kama Sutra one of her classmates had ordered from a pornography house in Bremen. The sergeant could have, in her opinion, written the damned thing.

Gus had managed to acquire enough chits for a visit to a field whorehouse a few kilometers to the rear by cheating the orderlies at cards, dice or anything else he could force them into betting on. The fact that they knew he was cheating was of no consequence. He wouldn't take no for an answer and when he, as he said, had to gently shake one of them, a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound supply sergeant, the rest decided it would be wiser not to irritate the madman any more than necessary. The supply sergeant was now in traction.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Yuri never got his wish to begin a new ear collection. Langer received his transit orders and they were moved out to a training regiment at Vilnyus in Lithuania. Two days after they arrived, Hitler relieved von Manstein of command of the sector they had just left and replaced him with Field Marshal Model, the one they called The Fireman. The wiry, thin-faced field marshal was known for his brilliance in handling crisis situations, and had time and again foiled Russian plans to annihilate German forces they had bottled up. Model was a master of fighting