commander, to complete its reconstitution. The 3rd Panzer is watching the Poles, covering Berlin, and dealing with the riots while the 6th Panzergrenadier is waiting to see if the American Marines in the Baltic are going to land.'
'So,' Kasper announced, 'we have more than three divisions that are no longer reliable, one, the 4th Panzer, that is approaching combat ineffectiveness, and two tied down in the east. That, according to my figures, leaves us less than two panzer divisions for offensive operations.'
'Yes, Hans, that's about right. Even when you take their losses into account, we have, in effect, been cut down to near parity with the Americans.'
'Well, that should be more than sufficient to severely punish the 4th Armored Division.'
Arndt hesitated and then lowered his voice. 'Well, yes of course, we can do that. But to what purpose, my friend? I mean, what exactly are we doing?'
This caught Kasper off guard. 'Doing? What do you mean, what are we doing? We are defending Germany against its enemies.'
Slowly, carefully, as if to feel out his fellow officer, Arndt spoke. 'Are you so sure, my friend, that we are dealing with the proper enemy?'
Kasper wanted to ask Arndt to clarify that question, but he decided not to out of fear that he wouldn't like the answer. Instead, with a brisk voice, Kasper told Arndt that he needed to finish preparing his briefing for the Chancellor, thanked him for the information, and hung up the phone without so much as a good-bye.
When Kasper hung up, Arndt knew that he had gotten the answer he had expected. Looking about at the operations center, he listened to the dozen or so conversations that were going on about the room, watched as numerous staff officers went this way and that, and thought about his conversation with Kasper. Then without any further thought he stood up and turned to the young major sitting next to him. 'I am going out.'
The major, one ear glued to a phone, covered the mouthpiece. 'I don't blame you, Herr Colonel. If someone asks where you are, I'll tell him you're taking a break.'
Arndt smiled. 'Yes, you do that.' Turning, he walked out of the room, down the hall where their coats hung, grabbing his as he went by, then headed for the elevators. Taking the elevator to the ground floor, Arndt stepped out, walked through another series of corridors 'to the main entrance which led out to the street. Pausing as he put his cap on, Arndt smiled when he saw the sun. Returning the salute of the two guards posted at the main entrance, Arndt walked down the flight of steps to the street, made a right, and began to walk home. For him the war was over.
From where his tank sat, Second Lieutenant Tim Ellerbee had a clear shot straight down the main highway as it came out of the small German village they had evacuated less than an hour ago. Two hundred meters to his front right, and out of sight, sat Sergeant First Class Ralph Rourk and his tank, covering a side street that came out of the town and into a cluster of fields that surrounded the village. The Germans, Ellerbee figured, would probably use one of those two exits from the village. If they didn't, they'd have to take a long detour to the west. And if they did that, they would run smack into another platoon of Captain Nancy Kozak's company.
There was another way out of the village, a mere alley, that Ellerbee should have covered with a third tank. And he would have if he'd had a third tank. But he didn't. Like all of the platoons in Kozak's company, Ellerbee's platoon had been substantially reduced in strength through a combination of combat losses and mechanical failures. The first tank he had lost had been his wing man, A32. The platoon had just broken contact west of Kassel with the advance guard of a German panzer battalion and were making a high-speed run to their next blocking position when a pair of German attack helicopters sitting in ambush fired on both Ellerbee's tank and A32. Ellerbee saw the incoming missiles and took evasive maneuvers. A32 didn't. Though there was only one man wounded on A32, and Ellerbee was able to retrieve him and the rest of the crew after the German helicopters moved on, there wasn't time to recover the damaged tank. So it was abandoned. The wounded man was evacuated and the remainder of A32's crew was reassigned to one of Kozak's infantry platoons to make up for some of their losses.
Rourk's wing tank, A33, sheared a drive sprocket while maneuvering across the side of a muddy hill. Though the damage was not catastrophic, since a replacement drive sprocket could have been cannibalized from another damaged tank that had been written off, the fact that Ellerbee's platoon was part of the division's rear guard made recovery impossible. So, like A32's crew, this crew was forced to abandon their tank and join one of Kozak's platoons as infantrymen.
As every other platoon leader in the Tenth Corps had to, Ellerbee adjusted his tactics to compensate for his losses. Actually, Ellerbee found dealing with only two tanks much to his liking, especially since the other tank was commanded by Rourk, an experienced NCO who needed no real guidance from Ellerbee. That, coupled with his brief but sorry combat experience in the Ukraine which he had taken to heart, allowed Ellerbee to more than survive their recent battles in central Germany. Grudgingly, ever so grudgingly, Rourk and the other noncommissioned officers in the platoon began to recognize Ellerbee as a competent tanker.
Unfortunately, in the eyes of Captain Nancy Kozak, he was unable to shed his image of a bungling idiot. Ellerbee's actions of five days before that had saved Colonel Scott Dixon and his tactical command post were seen by Kozak for what they were, a happy series of lucky accidents and errors. In all her dealings, she continued to treat him as if he were a first-year cadet at West Point. In fact she had never dropped her requirement that Rourk, Ellerbee's platoon sergeant, be present whenever she issued orders to him. Determined to show that he was a better man than she, Ellerbee said nothing, knowing that when all was said and done and the fighting was over, his record and performance would speak for themselves and he would be able to show that it was Kozak, not he, who had been unreasonable and unprofessional. So Ellerbee said nothing, for this was not the time or place to deal with such trivial matters. Instead he concentrated on doing his duty and building a reputation that would allow him when peace came to extract a measure of revenge against the female infantry captain who had embarrassed him and his platoon.
Over the radio Ellerbee heard Rourk's voice calling, 'Alpha Three One, this is Three Four. There's a German crawling along the ditch on the side of the road about fifty meters past the last house. Can you see him? Over.'
Ellerbee keyed the mike. 'Three Four, wait One. Out.' Then, letting go of the lever that keyed the radio transmitter, Ellerbee called out to Specialist Wilk, his gunner. ''Yo, Wilk. Can you see the German Rourk is talking about?'
With his eye glued to the gunner's primary sight, Wilk traversed the turret slowly to where Rourk had seen the German. When he thought that he was looking at the right spot, Wilk reached up and flipped the lever on the primary sight that moved the sight from a three-power wide-angle field of view to a narrow ten-power field of view. After a moment Wilk grunted. 'Ah, there's the little bastard, LT, moving up next to that shot-up Mercedes about fifty meters beyond the last building in the village.'
Leaning forward and putting his head up to his extension of the primary sight, Ellerbee saw what Wilk did. 'Yeah, I see him.' For a moment both he and Wilk watched as the German, moving with great care, inched his way forward. Every now and then the German stopped, popped his head up out of the ditch, and looked around before proceeding a little further. 'Well, what do you think?'
Wilk laughed. 'I think this guy needs to go back to basic training and learn how to low-crawl. God, look at that. His ass is sticking up so high a helicopter would have to swerve to avoid running into it.'
When he was ready, Ellerbee rekeyed his radio. 'Three Four, this is Three One. I see the German. From the way he's sneaking about, I think he's a tanker taking a look-see before his unit breaks cover. Over.'
Rourk's response betrayed a slight chuckle. 'Yeah, Three One, he's a tanker all right. Even the Germans, it seems, can't teach a tanker how to low-crawl right.'
Ignoring Rourk's comment, Ellerbee issued his order. 'Three Four, this is Three One. I think they'll come bounding out of town right down the main road. If they do, odds are every eye will be glued on where I'm sitting. So you wait until you've got a good flank shot and then pop the lead German vehicle. When you do, back up and get going to our next position. They may come down the street after you, in which case I'll be able to get a flank shot and cover your withdrawal. If the opposite happens and the Germans try to sneak out of town using the side street instead of the main road, I'll fire first and then you cover me. Do you copy? Over.'
'This is Three Four. Good copy. I'll see you at the next position. Over.'
'Roger, Three Four. Three One. Out.'
Ellerbee and Rourk didn't have long to wait. With the confidence of a man who was sure that no one was watching, the German in the ditch stood up, walked into the middle of the road, and waved at someone in the