is, Jan, the German Army has not fought in any wars since 1945. The United States Army, on the other hand, has had ample opportunity to blood its officers, so to say, in several conflicts. And,' Littleton continued, pointing his finger at the camera, 'there's more than simple combat experience. Since the breaking up of the Soviet Union, the German Army has not held a major maneuver training exercise. Most training exercises above battalion level have been command post exercises involving only the officers and assisted by computers. To my knowledge, there isn't a single German division commander who has had every unit in his command maneuvering in the field at the same time in years. An added problem was the creation of multinational corps. When the Germans pulled their units out of those multinational corps, in which officers from other nations held many key positions, the German effort to revert to all-German corps staff's in the midst of an active campaign created major problems at all levels of the German command structure that they still have not yet resolved.'
'Then what you're saying, Colonel, is that the American Army is a better army.'
Again Littleton smiled. 'No, Jan, I'm not saying that. What I am saying is that the American Army was better trained and prepared going into this crisis than the Germans were. They, the Americans, have a solid corps of knowledgeable and experienced officers and noncommissioned officers who have made the difference when it mattered. Unfortunately for the Tenth Corps, the Germans are learning. In that particular instance at the bridge, the lesson cost them two infantry fighting vehicles and their crews. Our soldiers, who learned their lessons before the first shots were fired, are facing combat veterans now who have learned their trade the hard way.'
Littleton's statement sent a chill through Jan. For a moment her face went blank as she tensed up. The director, seeing the sudden change, ordered the camera to hold on Littleton for a moment instead of cutting back to Jan for her next question. Only after Jan realized what had happened and had regained her composure did he allow the camera to cut over to her. As hard as it was for her to do, Jan asked the next logical question. 'Will this newfound experience be able to make a difference in sufficient time to allow the Germans to stop the Tenth Corps?'
Taking a deep breath before answering, Littleton pondered the question, then looked up at Jan. 'Perhaps. It is hard to say right now. Washington and Berlin must assess the results of the battle that's now winding down. It's really hard to say what either will do. The Tenth Corps has won, but it has paid for that success. The Germans have had their noses badly bloodied and will now step back to catch their breath and figure out what to do next. The only thing that we can be sure of, Jan, is that when and where the two armies come together again, it will be more violent and more vicious. The Americans now realize that they are fighting for their lives.'
'And the Germans, Colonel? How will the German soldier react?'
Again Littleton carefully considered his next comment. He, like the rest of the world, was really unsure. Public opinion in Germany was solidly against the war. Anti-war riots in every major city outside the combat zone had resulted in martial law being imposed and the diversion of those reserve units that had responded to their call- up to controlling civil disturbances instead of reinforcing combat units facing the Tenth Corps. And yet the German Army continued to maneuver and prepare for the next fight. Taking another deep breath, Littleton finally answered. 'I don't think anyone, even the German Army commanders themselves, can answer that question.'
While Jan Fields-Dixon and Colonel Edward J. Littleton, Jr., U.S. Army, retired, pondered what would happen next, Captain Nancy Kozak had no illusions as to how the German soldiers would behave. From the side of the road, Kozak watched with cold and impassionate eyes as two soldiers from her first platoon carefully laid the charred and shredded body of her battalion commander on a poncho. Though they were careful, there was also a decided lack of true emotion on their part. They were, like everyone else in Company C, 3rd of the 3rd Infantry, beyond feeling. The stress and strain of battle, sleepless nights, long periods of tedium shattered by sudden spasms of sheer terror known as combat had beaten practically every human emotion out of them. They were, like Kozak, responding but no longer feeling. It was too late for that.
From down the road, the roar of the battalion executive officer's humvee failed to disturb Kozak as she watched her soldiers continue the grim task of removing the bodies of the battalion commander's crew from their smashed Bradley. Even when the executive officer's humvee stopped next to Kozak and he dismounted, Kozak made no effort to acknowledge his presence. She simply continued to watch her soldiers drape another corpse in a mottled green camouflage poncho. Coming up next to Kozak, the executive officer looked briefly at what Kozak's soldiers were doing, then, ignoring the stench of burned flesh that made his nostrils twitch, he turned to Kozak. 'What happened?'
Kozak answered without taking her eyes away from the soldiers or enshrouded body. In a voice that was little more than a whisper Kozak responded. 'The battalion commander's dead.'
The executive officer stared at Kozak for a moment and blinked. He knew that. She was the one who had reported that to him. Not understanding her response, the executive officer continued. 'Yes, I know that. What I meant to say is how did it happen?'
Still without looking at the executive officer, Kozak responded in the same soft monotone that she had before. 'The Germans killed him.'
Only slowly did it begin to dawn on the executive officer that Kozak's responses, her attitude, and her refusal to acknowledge him were not meant as disrespect or evasion. They were the best that she could do. Kozak, like most of the rest of the soldiers in her company, was at the end of her physical and emotional tether. After two weeks of giving all she had to give and enduring more than any reasonable person could expect, Kozak had nothing more to give except her life. And at that moment if someone had come up to her, pointed a gun at her head, and threatened to shoot, odds were she would have done nothing. Sometimes the soul dies long before the body does.
But the battalion executive officer, now the commander of the 3rd Battalion, 3rd Infantry, wasn't finished with Kozak and her company. The battalion, now the rear guard for the 1st Brigade and in turn the 4th Armored Division, had another important mission to fulfill. Though the death of the battalion commander was regrettable, it was part of being a soldier. The battalion commander knew this. The executive officer knew this. Kozak knew this. Yes, soldiers had died, the executive officer thought, all of them, like the battalion commander, good men. But the Tenth Corps had escaped being crushed by the 2nd and 10th Panzer divisions and the march continued.
After looking at the soldiers going about their grim task one more time, the executive officer moved so that he now stood between Kozak and the grisly scene. Finally unable to watch her soldiers as they tended to the dead, Kozak looked up at the executive officer for the first time. When he had her attention, the young major began to issue his orders. 'Nancy, I want to take your company up this road about two kilometers to a place called Weiterode just outside of Bebra. Set up a blocking position oriented to the southwest. We have been ordered to keep Highway 27, which runs through Bebra, open until midnight. A Company will pass through you and deploy to the north of Bebra blocking 27 as it comes in from the north. D Company will be following and deploy to the south. B Company, which got beat up pretty bad this morning, will be reconstituting in Bebra and serve as a reserve.'
Though Kozak was looking him in the eye without blinking and nodded in acknowledgment, the executive officer wasn't sure she understood. Patiently he tried to explain to her the importance of what they were doing. 'Listen, Nancy, it's important that we hold here. The whole corps is shifting its axis of advance. Instead of pushing through Kassel directly north to Hannover, we're shifting to the northwest in the direction of Paderborn. The corps commander feels that we can do better there than staying in the hill country. Is that clear?'
Again Kozak simply stared vacantly into his eyes and nodded, causing the executive officer to wonder how much longer Colonel Dixon thought that he could push the brigade. The executive officer knew that when officers like Kozak began to teeter on the edge of total collapse, the end was in sight. He couldn't allow that to happen. He was a commander now, charged with a mission. 'Okay, Nancy, I want you to get your company mounted up and moving. I want you in place before it gets dark. Is that clear?'
As before, Kozak stared at him and nodded. Realizing that there was nothing more that he could do there, the executive officer shook his head, turned, and began to walk away. He was about to get into his humvee when Kozak called out, 'Major.'
Stopping, the executive officer turned around and faced Kozak. 'Major, I'm all right really. It's just that it's been a bad few days. I… I don't think…'
After Kozak lapsed into silence, the two officers looked at each other. For the first time in several days the executive officer felt compassion for another human being. Nodding, he said nothing at first. Then he said, 'I understand. We'll talk about it in Weiterode. Is that all right?'
'Yes, sir. That will be fine. Thank you.'
The executive officer looked at Nancy Kozak for a moment and realized that what she needed was more than
