Storymania - Russian Front by Aidan Steer

Russian Front (18)
Aidan Steer

Tania and he braced the dummy against the side of the trench. Hugh took out a packet of cigarettes, the better kind called Lux, smoked by senior Red Army officers. He lit one and positioned it carefully in Fred’s mouth. Tania grinned as she saw what he was up to. Hugh put the other end of the rubber tube in his own mouth, and gently puffed to keep the dummy’s cigarette alight. Together, they slowly raised the dummy to the top of the trench.

They both watched as first the top of the steel helmet and then the head itself rose above the parapet in view of the German lines. Looking up they could see a puff of smoke whiff away from the dummy’s cigarette in the light wind. Hugh stopped elevating the dummy when he judged that the chin was just in the view of any sniper who might be watching. They held the wooden framework and waited. Hugh puffed until he judged that the cigarette was nearly finished. He didn’t want to burn the mouth of the dummy.

He was about to begin lowering Fred when a rifle popped and a neat round hole appeared in the back of the dummy’s head.

Hugh lowered the dummy as quickly as he could, keeping the frame in position. Looking at the front of the head, he could see a small hole, less than a centimeter across, in the center of the dummy’s forehead just below the rim of the steel helmet.

‘Nice shooting,’ he said to Tania. ‘Poor old Fred never felt a thing.’

He ran a piece of steel rod through the hole bored in the plaster head, pushing it deep into the earthen side of the trench. Then he carefully pulled the whole Fred apparatus away from the steel rod while Tania held this steady. He raised his periscope to look out at No Man’s Land at the same angle as the steel rod.

The battlefield gradually came into view. He found himself looking just to the left of the wrecked tank. There didn’t seem to be anything there except the five-or-so feet length of tank track which had obviously been blown off the tank and lay flat on the ground about twenty feet in front the vehicle itself.

He looked beyond. The German lines started in the pockmarked remains of blocks of flats, about six hundred yards away. Something told Swayne that was just a bit too far for the Major. He lowered the periscope. He and Tania squatted down.

‘Nothing out there?’ she asked.

‘Nothing. You have a look. She stood up with the periscope and climbed the trench. Her greatcoat fell open. He could see the outline of her breasts. Her strong legs strained as she raised herself to get the periscope lenses over the edge of the parapet. Looking at her body made him think of Sally. Where was she? Was she all right? Who was this spy they had caught? Whoever he was, he must have been careless. Not covered his tracks well enough.

Covered. Tracks.

He shot up and grabbed Tania by her hips, bringing her gently down to the Earth floor of the trench.

‘What’s wrong? Hugh?’

‘He mustn’t see the periscope,’ Hugh told her.

‘But how can we find him?’

‘I know where he is. Or at least I think I do. We mustn’t spook him.’ Hugh looked around. Over to the right of the trench was an untidy, angular pile of concrete blocks. That would have to do, he said to himself. They had to get him now. Snipers often change position after a few kills for safety’s sake. He picked up his rifle.

‘I’m going to get into position for a shot. We can’t use Fred again. If the Major is where I think he is then he must have seen Fred’s face clearly. See those blocks over there?’

She nodded.

‘I’m going to get in amongst that lot. When you hear two shots hit the front of that tank, raise your helmet over the top of the trench. Carefully!’

‘Where do you think he is?’

‘I think he’s in a hide to the left of the tank. It’s a clever position. He knows nobody would use the tank for cover, it’s too obvious. But it’s often a good move to get into cover close to the prominent feature in a landscape. The tank distracts attention from the area immediately around it, if you see what I mean.’

‘So you get into a firing position and I draw him out. Good.’

‘If he shoots your helmet, scream. Make him think he’s got a kill.’

Tania looked at him. Hugh was staring at the side of the trench in the direction of the Major’s hide, almost as if he was willing himself to be able to see through the tons of Earth and look his quarry in the face. Yuri’s face bore the same intensity when he was stalking. Her heart turned over.

‘What are you thinking?’ she asked quietly.

‘Our problem is that we might have to get him to show himself,’ said Hugh. ‘I’m not sure I can take him in the cover he’s in.’ He looked at her. ‘Which of us is the best shot?’

‘It depends on the range,’ she answered. ‘You are used to open spaces. Most of my kills have been two hundred meters or less. If the target is near the tank, the range from the tank will be … three hundred fifty meters, perhaps a little more.’

‘Then it’s me,’ he said shortly. ‘Right. I’m off. Wait for the two shots against the tank. Bugger,’ he said as he looked up at the sky. ‘It’s starting to snow. That won’t help.’ He padded away, his rifle in his right hand. She watched him go.

It took Hugh more than half an hour to get into a position, crawling up the side of a huge block of concrete which had been tipped over and half-buried until it resembled a pyramid. Snow flakes whirled around him as he removed the leather caps of the Mosin-Nagant’s telescopic sight. He took a rolled strip of dirty white linen from his greatcoat pocket and, lying on his back, tied it around the barrel of his rifle. Then he gradually slid muzzle over the edge of the summit of his concrete hill.

There was the tank, just about four hundred yards away. From where he was lying he could just see into the top half of Tania’s trench. He looked through his telescopic sight. To the left of the tank he had an excellent view of the length of tank track, lying on the ground in parallel with the Russian lines. He noticed now that the interlocked plates of metal were not completely flat on the ground. They seemed slightly raised on the German side. He scanned the metal from one end to the other though his scope.

There. Right in the middle. A loophole had been cut in the metal of one of the metal plates forming the track. Underneath what seemed like a harmless length of caterpillar track was, he was sure, a foxhole. The Major and his spotter would have crept out from their lines one night, picked up the track, marked its position, dug an angled foxhole and covered it with a camouflaged roof, in the same way that he and Tania had covered their hide. They must have carried the track back to their lines and got their engineers to cut the loophole in the center plate of the track. Then, before dawn, they carried it back to its original position.

The Major and, possibly, an observer would then have climbed down into their foxhole, pulling the track over the hole. Very neat, thought Hugh, with grudging admiration. The length of track acts as both camouflage and armor plate The Major and his spotter – although somehow Hugh felt that there was only room for one man in the foxhole underneath the track – would be spirited back to the German lines each evening for a well-earned rest.

So he had found the Major’s hidey-hole, but how to make him show himself? Hugh was an outstanding shot, but he didn’t believe he could put a bullet through the loophole. Even if he did, he probably wouldn’t hit a person underneath. Not at this angle.

Would the Major be the type to put his head up after shooting to see if he had got a kill? This was always a great temptation for any sniper. And, there was a touch of arrogance about this German. It showed itself in the location of the hide – almost recklessly close to the Russian lines, in the shadow of a Russian tank. Hugh divined that the Major possessed a huge confidence in his own ability.

Hugh worked the bolt of his rifle slowly. He snapped off two shots on to the hull of the T34. As he had anticipated, they made a distinctive metallic ricochet. A few seconds later he saw Tania’s steel helmet slowly appear at the top of her trench. From where he was he could see her greatcoated arm underneath. He worked another round into the chamber and sighted on the loophole.

A rifle cracked. The steel helmet disappeared and there was an ear-piercing scream. Hugh hoped the Major’s bullet hadn’t taken her hand off. He hadn’t seen any muzzle flash, but then there were ways and means of reducing that.

There was no movement. The Major was controlling any curiosity he felt.

Hugh kept on studying the Major’s hide. A while later there was a tug on his boot. He turned around to look at Tania who had crawled up the sloping face of concrete to join him. Hugh slid down slightly so that he was completely out of sight of No Man’s Land. He told her where he thought the Major was hiding.

‘I think we’re going to have to request a mortar attack,’ he said after he had told her where the Major was hiding. ‘I know it’s an expensive way to kill one man, but I don’t see how else to get him. A squad of shock troops would be cut to pieces by German machine guns before they got anywhere near him. Another tank would be too slow, even if one were available, which I doubt. He’s got bullet-proof tank tracks above him, so we can’t shoot him. He’s too far away for grenades. A mortar stonk is the only way.’

They carefully checked the map co-ordinates of the Major’s hide and Tania slithered down the concrete block to try to arrange the mortar attack. Hugh kept the hide under his sights, on the off-chance that the Major might do something silly and show himself. He didn’t.

Tania was back surprisingly soon, although she might have been away hours. The passage of time meant very little to Hugh when he was hunting.

‘Mortar attack is agreed. It will start any minute now.’

They waited. Some time later, Tania grew restless and muttered what sounded like curses in Russian.

‘Where are those bloody mortars?’

As she said this there was a whistling sound in the air and a heavy mortar round crashed into No Man’s Land, fifty yards to the German side of tank tracks. Then another and another whistled and exploded, gradually creeping nearer to the hide. Hugh looked around. He couldn’t see the Red Army spotter who was directing the mortars. He was worried that the Major would have some kind of escape route planned. The mortaring was taking too long to bracket the Major’s hiding place. In his foxhole he was safe from anything except a direct hit, although he must by now have realized that his carefully constructed hide had been discovered.

Tania tugged at his sleeve urgently and pointed out towards the location of the hide. The length of tank track was moving, being pushed aside from underneath. A gap had appeared, showing the side of a foxhole. For an instant, too quickly for a shot, Hugh could see an arm appear and throw something. A few seconds later there was an explosion and the view in his telescopic sight was obscured in swirling mists of gray.

‘He’s using smoke grenades to cover himself,’ Hugh shouted.

All they could do was watch as two more smoke grenades burst on their side of the Major’s hide, which was now completely hidden in smoke, shrouded even further in gently-falling snow. The turret of the tank looked like a ship floating on the top of the smoke. There was very little wind, but Hugh readied himself to shoot the Major as he made his escape. Smoke dissipates quickly in the open air, even in near-windless conditions. The Major couldn’t cover himself with smoke all the way back to his lines.

Tania and he both had their weapons trained on the area of the hide as the smoke began to clear. There was nothing there. The tank tracks had been pushed far enough to reveal a gap big enough for a man to get out of the foxhole. Where was he? Had he stayed in the hide?

A mortar round exploded at the edge of the hide, sending the Major’s shield of tank track spinning twenty feet into the air. Dust settled to reveal the hide half-filled with earth. What looked like a radio-telephone had been blown out of it as well.

Tania and Hugh rested their rifles on the cold concrete and stared at each other.

‘Where’s the bastard gone?’ said Hugh, mystified.

The distant but unmistakable sound of a starter motor chugged. A diesel engine caught, roared and black smoke billowed out of the T34 that they had both assumed had been knocked out. Perhaps it had been, but it soon became clear that German mechanics, working at night, had repaired it sufficiently for it to be capable of being driven now. Hugh watched the tank shudder into movement as the tracks turned. The gray juggernaut began to swing around to face the German lines. Whoever was driving it was having trouble with the steering mechanism.

Hugh turned around to say something to Tania and saw that she was gone. He slithered down the slope and dropped to the ground, making his way through the concrete to the edge of No Man’s Land.

There she was, running after tank, whose driver had managed to point the tank more or less towards the German lines. There was a crash of gears and it rumbled forward. As he started out into the open after Tania, Hugh could see that the Germans had repaired the tank to make it driveable, including replacing its right-side tracks - at night, in silence. All to give the Major his escape route, his getaway car. A part of Hugh’s mind couldn’t help admiring the combination of skill and daring that would have taken.

Tania, who seemed to have lost her rifle, had reached the tank as it began to rumble away towards safety. The back of a T34 is quite long, and equipped with handholds so that troops can ride. Tania sprinted after the tank, long elegant lugs pumping, and grabbed metal. The tank was belching a lot of smoke and was moving slowly, no more than walking speed. Apparently the German mechanics had not been able to effect a complete repair to the engine. Tania hauled herself onto the top of the engine compartment and began to crawl forward. Hugh swore and ran after her. She reached the hatch on top of the turret as Hugh reached the back of the tank, awkwardly slinging his rifle over his shoulder as he ran. He had no other weapon. How did she think she was going to get the Major, he asked himself in fury. Arrest him?

Clambering along the tank which, despite its slow speed, was getting terrifyingly close to the enemy lines, he looked up and saw Tania draw a bayonet from inside her padded coat. With athletic grace she raised herself on both arms, tucked her legs under her, and dropped through the open hatch into the bowels of the tank. He looked around as the tank lumbered on. Nothing seemed to be happening, there were no machine guns. It was as if both armies were watching the bizarre contest taking place in No Man’s Land.

Hugh reached the hatch and looked down inside. There was a struggle going on in the area of the driver’s position at the front of the tank. All he could see were two figures locked in a furious wrestling match, the only light coming from the driver’s vision slits. Tania had not apparently been able to surprise the Major. Hugh held on to the lurching metal of turret as he unslung his rifle and pointed it awkwardly down into the dark mechanical arena. Tania’s hair flashed as the other, a blur of camouflage clothing looking like a leopard’s skin, began to gain the upper hand and pin her to down into the shadows of the floor of the tank.

Shouting obscenities and shaking with terror and anger Hugh threw away his rifle and dropped on top of Tania’s opponent, reaching for his neck. Now that he was fully inside the tank he could see better, probably because his body was no longer blocking light from the turret. The Major, covered from head to toe in camouflage, lashed out with his right elbow, catching Hugh in his Adam’s Apple. Hugh gasped for air but kept hold and gradually forced the other’s neck back away from Tania. The German was forced to lengthen his grip on Tania’s knife hand. In the next instant Hugh and the German crashed back against the back of the tank, Hugh bashing his head against the point of a shell in its storage compartment. The pain was intense and his vision exploded with stars, but he held the Major, thrashing violently, against his chest with his arms. Then there was an even worse pain, because it was more frightening. The point of a blade dug into Hugh’s breast bone. In her frenzied determination to finish the Major with her bayonet, she was stabbing Hugh as well.

Tania pulled the knife out of the German’s neck and stabbed him again, screaming in Russian. The long blade went through the man’s neck once more and into Hugh’s right pectoral muscle. Again and again, Tania stabbed the Major with the bayonet, blood spurting over all three of them from the German’s severed artery. At last, Tania leaned back against the jolting breech mechanism of the tank’s cannon, the muscles of her right arm completely exhausted. The front of her padded jacket was soaked in blood. Hugh pushed the Major’s lifeless body, now looking like a pile of bloody clothing, onto the metal floor. He felt his chest. He had been cut a number of times and was bleeding steadily.

He struggled up and crawled into the driver’s seat. The tank had been making steady progress towards the German lines during their bloody fight with the German sniper. The accelerator was set at one speed. He turned around to shout to Tania, his chest aching with the movement.

‘Do you know how to drive this thing?’ She just shook her head. She was still in a daze.

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