office door. “Tell me, when you became a general did you leave your brains behind? Where were you when the Yanks landed in Normandy?”
“Getting out of the hospital, as you well know.”
“Have you seen photos or newsreels of the landings?”
“A few. What are you driving at?”
Schurmer split the last of the scotch with his guest, unevenly as Varner noticed. What the hell, it was his bottle.
“Rundstedt and Himmler are transfixed by platoon-sized landing craft,” Schurmer said. “Did you ever hear of a ‘duck’? And no, I am not talking about a feathered creature that waddles on the ground and quacks; instead, I am talking about the creature that swims rather well. In this context, the word duck stands for an absurd abbreviation for a vehicle that is half boat and half truck.”
He stepped over to a wall shelf and pulled out a folder filled with photographs. “Look at this, General Varner.”
Varner paled. He saw scores of small landing craft heading for the Normandy shore in a photo taken by an incredibly brave German photographer.
“The Americans have thousands of these things and they hold a squad each,” Schurmer said. “Nor do they have to be hidden since they run on wheels when on land and act like a boat in water. They worked marvelously.”
“Dear God.”
“Don’t get religious, Ernst, it doesn’t become you. Here’s another picture. This is a Sherman tank attempting to swim to shore using flotation devices during the Normandy invasion. They didn’t work very well and almost all the tanks sank because the seas were too rough and they were dropped off too far from shore. Tell me, O newly anointed General, how rough is the Rhine and how far would they have to travel?”
“The water is as smooth as glass,” Varner said softly. “And the distance to cross will be relatively short. This means I’m right. The main attack won’t be in the south.”
Schurmer laughed harshly. “We’ve always said that we couldn’t stand up to American numbers and firepower, and that we needed the Rhine Wall to protect us. This shows that they can and doubtless will attack wherever they want and simply overwhelm our defenses. Dietrich’s reserve army, now heading south to confront Patton, will be ordered to reorient itself and head north to confront the true menace, which means it will be vulnerable to American planes.”
“Does Rundstedt know about this?”
“Of course, and he’s chosen to ignore it.”
Varner was aghast. “But why?”
Schurmer shrugged and gazed longingly at the empty bottle of Scotch. “Why don’t you ask him yourself?”
Colonel Tom Granville looked up in surprise at the thin young man who stood before him. “Phips, what the devil are you doing here and in my office? Aren’t you supposed to be in New York or someplace selling war bonds?”
“I can’t do that anymore, sir. Getting people to buy bonds might be a good idea for some, but I’m beginning to feel like a pimp. Also, I’m yesterday’s hero. Hitler’s been dead for a while now and the war’s still going on. Hell, sir, I’ve had people tell me it’s my fault that we’re still fighting.”
“Phips, does the Pentagon know you’re here?”
“No sir. I faked my way across by telling who I was and that I had verbal orders from Ike.”
“Good God, that’s a court-martial offense. Correction, that’s several of them. Why the devil did you do it?”
“Because of Stover, sir. His mother wrote me that they got word through the Red Cross that he’d died in a prison camp hospital after being shot down. I’ve talked with some people at State and in the OSS and they’re convinced that he was probably beaten to death after parachuting safely from his damaged plane. Maybe they even knew he was one of the guys who killed Hitler. I decided it wasn’t fair that I would be screwing around in American cities while my crewmen were dealing with danger. Colonel, I applied through channels and they all thought I was crazy.”
“Well, you are,” Granville said. Perhaps the boy had more balls then he’d originally thought. Still, there were problems. “What do you hope I will do?”
“Sir, I’d like to get back in a bomber. I’ve tried to reach people in the Eighth Air Force and they basically said they didn’t want to talk to me. Since I used Ike’s name so liberally, I thought I’d see you.”
Granville sat back in his chair and sighed. “Son, there’s no way in hell you’re going back in a bomber.”
Phips’ jaw dropped in dismay. “Why?”
“Because if the Nazi fanatics even got a hint you were up they’d make every effort to kill you and that would include your crew, just like what might have happened to Stover. Some Nazis are so fanatic they’d even make like a Jap and try to ram your plane. In fact, some German fools are doing that already. Now tell me, would that be fair to your new crewmen?”
Phips sagged visibly. “No sir, it wouldn’t. I’ve got enough on my plate what with feeling guilty about Stover. His mom wrote me that he’d wanted to go back up and prove he was good as I was. Hell, sir, all I did was bomb some damn building. How was I supposed to know Adolf the Shithead was in it?”
“First, Captain Phips, you are not responsible for other people’s behavior and I know you’ve been told that. I suggest you start believing it. As to what to do with you, I’ve just decided that we need another liaison officer to check on how well we’re coordinating with the army. I’ll make up some retroactive orders to cover your ass and keep you out of the stockade.”
There was a knock on the door and a young woman entered carrying some folders. She smiled happily. “My God, it’s Phipsie!”
Phips grinned happily. “In the flesh, Margie.”
Granville rolled his eyes. “Margie, Captain Phips is being assigned here. Why don’t you take him around and get him settled in.”
Margie took Phips by the arm and led him away. “I’ve missed you, you silly boy.”
“I’ve missed you too,” he said and meant it.
“And I’ll bet you don’t even know my last name, do you? It’s Fletcher, by the way. Well, you’re going to have plenty of time to learn that and a lot of other really, really important things.”
Morgan and Levin watched from a bunker as the west bank of the Rhine was gradually pulverized by the hundreds of pieces of American artillery that had taken over from the waves of bombers. These included the relatively small 105mm howitzers that the 74th possessed. Heavier artillery from neighboring divisions provided the bigger guns utilizing a technique referred to as “time on target.” This meant that every gun that could be brought to bear fired on the exact same place for a set period of time. It generally devastated the target and raised havoc with the morale of the persons under fire, or nearby waiting their turn. American tanks held their fire. They would need their ammunition on the other side.
“Once again,” said Levin, “how can anybody be alive after all this? Yet I know that a lot of them will be. I don’t know about you, but I’m damn glad we won’t be going in with the first waves.”
Jack offered no argument. The night before it had been announced that Patton’s Third Army was crossing to their south and was meeting stiff resistance. “Why don’t we make our own atomic bomb and drop it on the Nazis?” Jack asked. Levin merely grunted.
All around them hundreds of ducks stuffed with men from the 116th Infantry Division were rolling to their take-off points. Close to fifty Sherman tanks fitted with flotation devices moved with them. Still, the Germans hadn’t responded to the American barrages.
Carter slipped in beside them. His Pershing tanks wouldn’t move until a pontoon bridge had been built. They
