The Road to Pabianice

Sir Richard

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Story 03 of The Polish Campaign:

I disliked General Deitrich immediately. He was one of those people who treated Hitler as if he was God's appointed commander of the German people. The proof of his greatness and of the fact that God was on his side was the success Hitler had in restoring Germany to its former position of power. Clearly, no other proof was necessary that Hitler had God's blessing.

"Heil Hitler," he greeted as I stood in the tent. The greeting caught me off guard. I had never had a cause to use it before, and I hesitated. A thought pushed its way through my brain that if I revealed my concerns here, in this company, I would do nothing but harm myself and gain nothing. I returned the greeting.

Unlike the previous engagements, the action here had started before I arrived. While radio operators received reports, aides moved pins around on a map sitting on the wall. I recognized symbols for each of the companies under his command and supporting units temporarily assigned to him.

"Sergeant Hummel, explain the map to him," Dietrich commanded, refusing to be distracted for long from his reports.

"You will have to excuse the General, he is somewhat distracted," Hummel reported. "We just learned that the enemy is about to launch an attack to capture several locations along the main roadway to Pabianice, including the town of Kosobudy." He pointed at the autobahn that went straight into the town, then hovered his pointer over a the town of Kosobudy. "We do not know how. We think it is going to happen in the near future, and we can't get anybody on the radio except the forward elements of II Battalion. They are here [see attached map], south of Pabianice, trying to take this road south of town."

Behind us, Dietrech started shouting at the radio operators. "Tell that inbred that he had better get his battalion to Kosobudy while I still have artillery left for him to defend, or I will nail his hide to the nearest barn and use him for target practice!"

Hummel continued. "The problem is, right now, the only units we have in Kosobudy is an artillery battalion. There is nothing defending the town. III Battalion is just east of that location. However, like I said, we have lost contact with them and we can't tell them to move forward. The General is trying to find reinforcements, but the only thing available is a battalion of infantry on foot. By the time they march into battle, it may be too late. We can't even reach our own regimental command post.

"I thought this was the Regimental command post?"

"Rear command," said Hummel. "We communicate with a forward Regimental command post that coordinates the different units. Right now, our forward command post is sitting right here." Again, his pointer landed in the middle of Kosobudy.

"There is nothing defending them?"

"Every command post has its security attachment," said Hummel. "It's enough to defend them from civilians or guerilla raids. It's not enough to defend them from an infantry assault, and they don't even know that one is on the way. Other than that, all we have in town is about a hundred trucks belonging to II Battalion. That's where we dropped them off."

The thought of fellow Germans under threat pushed aside my doubts about the war. "I'll tell them," I said. "Tell the General to write up some orders, and I'll deliver them."

Hummel quickly went to the General with my plan. General Dietrich scowled at me, and I watched him shake his head no. Hummel made the mistake of starting to argue, and nearly got himself slapped. Dietrich dismissed him.

Hummel picked up a radio and spoke into it. "Testing.". One of the operators acknowledged receipt. He quickly handed it over to me. "Follow me."

"I thought I saw him say no," I said.

"He did," said Hummel. "But, you're still supposed to report to forward command, and you are still supposed to have a radio with you. Add it up, and what do you get?"

"I deliver a new radio to forward command so you can tell them to prepare for an attack."

Hummel introduced me to a boy who looked like he still belonged in school. The youth smiled and saluted sharply, eager to please, yet he nearly dropped his rifle in the process.

"Private Metzger will be your driver," Hummel said. "Private, take Mr. Schmidt to Forward Command and, from there, do whatever he says until he releases you." He returned the Private's salute.

Metzger stepped aside to give me access to his motorcycle and side car. "I think we should hurry," I told Metzger as I jumped in.
 
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Sir Richard

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We encountered the first elements of III Battalion in the town of Zakrzewki, just north of the main highway going into Pabianice. They had set up a check point. The guard on duty casually strolled over to check our identification and to ask us our business in the area.

"You have better be careful," Metzger told him. "There is a whole division of Polish infantry that's going to march right through this town."

I stared at Metzgar in stunned disbelief, but the Guard obviously believed him. "My God," he exclaimed. He turned to his companion and said, "Go get the Sergeant Major?"

"We don't have time for this," I told the Guard. "We need to get to regimental forward command and warn them. We've lost radio contact, and we have to warn them before it's too late."

"Too late? When will they get here?"

"Pretty soon," I huffed impatiently. "Can we go?"

The soldier looked confused. "Hey, look. I have to check this out with the Sergeant Major. I can't let just anybody go through."

"Quickly," I said.

While I sat, drumming my fingers on the side of the sidecar, I looked around at squads of infantry digging in to the town. At least, it looked like they would be ready for battle.

The Sergeant Major did not waste time. He did not run, but walked quickly, up to us. "What's this I hear about a Polish attack?"

I struggled to keep calm. "General Deitrich has information that the Poles plan a counterattack against this region from the south. We can't raise Forward Command on the radio, so we have to deliver the message in person."

"I know what you say about the radio. We haven't been able to contact anybody for over an hour." I sent a runner to try to check in at Company HQ."

Suddenly struck with an idea, I freed my own radio and handed it to him. "Here, check it at Regimental HQ instead."

He took the radio and attempted to make the call.

The reception was poor, but he did manage to get somebody on the other side. "This is Sergeant Major Schaf, III Battalion. We're hearing rumors of trouble coming our way. Confirm?"

Hisses and static answered him, but through it he was able to hear a voice. "Make sure the Poles do not capture that damned road."

Then, nothing but static.

"You say they are coming from the south?" the Sergeant Major asked.

"That's what the intelligence says."

Schaf turned to his men. "Load up. We're leaving in 10 minutes. Weapons and ammo only. We'll come back for the rest later."

He stepped back away from the motorcycle, and waved us through. As we sped through town I looked over my shoulder to see the platoon suddenly being roused into action.

"I have a feeling that your radio is not going to do us any good by the type we reach Forward HQ."

"It doesn't look good," I answered.

We passed other elements of III Battalion, but we did not stop to chat with them. Talking to Regimental HQ was more important than talking to every grunt soldier on the roadside along the way.

When we got onto the hardtop, we flew down the road. The road was lined with soldiers from III Battalion, sitting down, drinking coffee over open fires or lining up at the platoon mess hall. They had guards about, but the guards as well did not expect anything unusual.

Ahead of me, I could hear the artillery battery stationed in Kosobudy. Then I could see one of the batteries on the hillside south of the road. It sat, right out in the open. Sandbag defenses had been set up, but if I had a tank I could probably take out all four guns in four shots.

The road dipped down into a steep valley for a half of a kilometer or so, then rose up the other side. Then we entered Kosobudy. As soon as we saw buildings, we saw the flag for the forward headquarters. Three large trucks sat in the courtyard in front of the city government building. Security squads stood watch over makeshift barriers. As we raced toward the closest gate, guards aimed machine guns and rifles in our direction.

"Identification, please?" asked the Guard at the gate.

Metzer quickly produced his papers, and I produced mine. "We have an emergency message from headquarters," I told the guard. He acted like he did not hear me.

He handed our documents over to his assistant and said, "Take these to the lieutenant."

"Can we go?" I asked the Guard.

"No civilians," he answered. "Those are our orders."

"I am attached to General Deitrich's staff," I shouted.

"I have my orders." Please, pull your vehicle off of the road so that you do not block traffic. I will send for you as soon as I hear from the Lieutenant."

"We have an urgent message."

"I'm afraid I must insist," said the Guard.

I gave Metzer permission to obey. We drove off to the side, climbed off of the vehicle, and waited.

It was only a few minutes. It seemed like we were there for half a day. Eventually, a guard came out with orders to let us in. We were escorted into the building with two guards walking a safe distance behind us, cradling sub-machine guns in their arms. We were escorted into a back room, where a lieutenant had set up a private office.

"You have a message from the General."

"Expect an attack from the south to try to take the town," I said hastily."

"South? That's forest."

"A perfect place to hide infantry while they approach your defenses."

"True. How do you know this?"

"General Dietrich told me," I answered.

"Did he send any written orders?" the lieutenant asked.

"He did not have time."

The lieutenant bit his lip.

"That does not make sense to me," he answered slowly.

We were almost pushed aside by an overly thin, somewhat older man who showed more strength than he looked. He was wearing the uniform of a Lieutenant Colonel. The offer we had been speaking to snapped to attention, as did Metzer. I recognized him as Colonel von Oberkamp, the commander of II Battalion.

A sergeant pushed his way into the room around the Colonel was there. When he noticed the other soldiers at attention, he saw the Major, and snapped a salute himself. I stood patiently and waited.

"At ease," the Colonel commanded. He stepped in and took a slow look around. "General Dietrich sent me to tell you to expect an attack from Polish infantry to the south," von Oberkamp said slowly. "I am recalling my own battalion to help defend the town and I am taking charge of its defense. I want an immediate briefing on the disposition of our forces, and I want to know why there is a civilian standing in the middle of a regimental headquarters.

"He's attached to General Dietrich," the lieutenant said, handing over my papers. "He was just telling me the same thing, about an attack from the south."

"Was he?" said von Oberkamp as he read the papers. "So, your Mr. Schmidt. I was told to expect you. I see that you live up to your reputation. You seem to have a high sense of situational awareness. It is a rare gift."

"Thank you, sir," I answered.

"Excuse me." The sergeant who had entered after Colonel von Oberkamp fidgeted nervously. "That's what I came to tell you. We have reports from a couple of companies in III Battalion. They report sighting a company of infantry about two klicks south of their position. Including wagons."

"we have confirmation, then." said the Colonel. He spoke directly to the sergeant. "Tell the artillery batteries to focus on that company of infantry. Meanwhile, get their transports ready. We're going to want to move them to a safer location. Put III Battalion on alert and tell them that they are under my command. They will receive their orders shortly."

He dismissed the sergeant and turned to me. "You heard, an enemy infantry unit is approaching from the South. I want to know who they are, how many there are, and what they're trying to do."

"Yes, sir," I said. I almost found myself saluting the Colonel, before reminding myself that a salute from a civilian was highly inappropriate. I called to Private Metzer. "Come on. We've got a job to do."
 

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As we left the command post, Colonel von Oberkamp added an order for headquarters to move to a safer location to his list of other commands. "Now!" he shouted, and staff started stuffing things into boxes and running them out to the command vehicles in the yard.

As Metzer and I walked to the gate and to our vehicle beyond, messengers headed out in motorcycles and bicycles to deliver von Oberkamp's commands. I started to have some confidence that we might be able to organize a decent defense.

We headed down the hardtop toward III Battalion, about 2 kilometers behind us. Metzer went for speed.

Orders were reaching Company 9 about as fast as we were driving through. Soldiers casually resting were alerted and sent running. Drivers hopped into trucks and drove away empty. These were the trucks called forward to get the howitzers out before the enemy showed up. The rest of the infantry were forming up into columns.

Soldiers dodged us, and we dodged them, more or less successfully.

The 10th and 11th companies were still casually sitting around as we drove past.

The road approached a steep drop off and Metzer pulled off to the side. According to the reports we had received at headquarters, the enemy was in the valley below the hill. However, I couldn't see them. Between us and the far end of the valley was a line of houses, a collection of farm buildings.

Through the binoculars, I saw that somebody had already gotten there before us.

I heard the artillery guns on our right fire, and saw fountains of dirt and smoke rise several hundred meters beyond the line of houses. If that is where the artillery was landing, I assumed that the soldiers at the houses were friendly.

"We have to get down there," I told Metzer.

We rushed down the hill and down the road to the line of buildings, but slowed down as we got nearer. We did not want anybody taking any shots at us. The platoon that had taken over the building was setting up defenses, and challenged us as we approached.
They took a quick look at us, and waved us through.

The best building of the lot was a brick structure on the south side of the complex. The front door had been broken off and was leaning up against an inside wall. Sergeant Major Schaf was there. Ahead of him, there was a kilometer of open field with another line of buildings bordering a stream.

Between us and the other line of buildings, sticking out of the grass in plain sight, was about a company of infantry, getting ready to charge Schaf's single platoon.

Schaf dispatched his sectors. His machine guns were starting to cut across the plains. Where they fired, enemy soldiers dived for cover, but elsewhere infantry continued to close the distance. The enemy had machine guns on our left which were returning fire.

There were a lot of enemy infantry out there. I estimated that we were being attacked by at least a battalion, with one company working its way up the right flank.

"Where is the artillery?" Sergeant Schaf grumbled.

"They're pulling it someplace safer," I told him.

He suddenly tensed.

"You'll have reinforcements here shortly. Company 9 has been ordered here.”

“One company?”

“You have a whole battalion behind you, and another on the way. You just have to hold out until then."

"We're not holding," Schaf said. "They're going to start shelling this place, and I don't want to be here." He turned to his aides. "Send the word to set up booby traps. We'll pull it out. They'll shell this place and move in, set off the booby traps, and then we'll chase them out and come back."

We continued to hold out as the enemy got closer, taking every advantage we could to knock off a few more enemy soldiers. Major Schaff withdrew one squad at a time. He stayed until it was time for the last squad to go. They set the booby traps, and ran.

Schaff planned the maneuver perfectly. We were running down the road when the first shells hit. A shed off to our right simply disintegrated. The ground trembled and the air roared.

When the shells quit falling, smoke canisters landed among the buildings, the first signs of an assault.

Schaff set up the machine guns. Ahead of us, a platoon of enemy infantry rushed into the buildings we had abandoned. We heard the explosions of a few of our traps. North of us, 9th Company was charging across the grassland to reinforce our position. The radio informed us that another platoon from Schaff's own company was also just arriving.

Sergeant Major Schaf did not see Captain Bissinger, commander of 9th Company, arrive. The commander asked for directions from one of the infantrymen, and the infantryman pointed straight at Schaf.

"Okay," Schaf said to his aides, "Let's go back. The enemy is almost certainly going to move its artillery barrage over here. One place they are not likely to drop shells is over there. We've got the manpower. We can do this."

"We can," said Captain Bissinger. "But this manpower is mine to command, not yours."

Schaf snapped to attention.

"Enough of that Sergeant. I am pleased to see that you are not a total coward. Hopefully, we can repair the damage you have done here. We will take back the territory that you turned over to our enemy, then we will form a line, and we will hold it. Do I make myself clear?"

"I was . . ." Schaf started to answer.

"Do I make myself clear?" Captain Bissinger repeated.

"Yes, sir," said Sergeant Schaf.

"Prepare your soldiers for an assault."

I turned my attention on the grassland. Increasing numbers of enemy infantry were crossing the plain. It may be possible to form a line on these buildings and hold it, but it would not be easy. Furthermore, if the infantry were to dig in and hold, staying in one place long enough, the enemy artillery was going to drum them into the ground.

I decided not to stay.

"Come, Mitzer," I said to my driver. "I want to see what is off of our west flank."
 

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Mitzer sat on his motorcycle with his attention firmly focused on the radio.

"How goes the war?" I asked him.

"It's hard to say," Mitzer stammered.

"Details, soldier. Give me details."

He took a nervous breath. "Well, the enemy artillery is hitting Colonel von Oberkamp pretty hard. And 5th company, which was supposed to retreat to Kosobudy and help hold the town, found out that a bunch of enemy tanks was following them, so they had to stop and fight the tanks."

I held my hand up to stop "Okay, soldier; you obviously do not understand the meaning of the word 'details'. What type of tanks? How many? And if Colonel von Oberkamp is being shelled, I assume that he is facing some sort in infantry charge."

"Yes, sir," Mitzer stammered.

"I am not an officer. Tell me what's happening, the same way I would tell General Dietrich."

"Well, yes, sir . . . I mean . . . yes. Colonel von Oberkamp is holding the south end of Kosobudy with a machine gun company, against a whole lot of infantry . . ."

He must have noticed my grimace.

"whole lot . . . yes . . . I mean, he said he saw a company on the edge of the forest, two platoons on his right, and two or three platoons coming straight for him."

"Battalion strength," I said. "Maybe more, like what we're facing here."

"Yes, sir . . . um . . . Mr. Schmidt. He's evacuating wounded. The shelling really blew one of his platoons to pieces; he says it's just about worthless to him now. But, the rest of his battalion is moving up to help out. Well, two infantry companies have arrived. Like I said, 5th Company stopped when they found out about the tanks."

"Tanks," I repeated.

"Tanks. Yes, sir. There were about 10 TK-3’s."

I breathed a sigh of relief. "Those aren't tanks, they're armored roller skates. 5th Company might even have the advantage. They have to take out the tanks before the enemy infantry catches up."

"I don't know, sir," Mitzer answered. "Captain Mohnke has been screaming for reinforcements. There is a Panzer company and an infantry company right behind him doing nothing but sitting and waiting. Those company commanders are waiting for word from General Dietrich, and nobody can reach the General any more. Captain Mohnke is so mad that the only reason he's preventing the Poles from wiping out both companies is because he wants to do it himself."

"And Dietrich can't get in touch with anybody else."

"Nobody else can."

I looked around in frustration. "I feel so useless. What piece of information can I give the Colonel that will give him a better chance of winning this?"

"We already gave him that news. We warned them that the enemy was coming."

"He did not get that information from me," I answered.

As I spoke, I heard a sound I had not heard before. I thought it was machinegun fire, but the sound was too deep and following a strange pattern. I turned to place the sound southeast of our position.

I peeked around the corner, and saw a cavalry company charging straight toward us. There were about 150 horsemen lined up, in full gallop.

Sergeant Schaf’s platoon had already noticed the threat, and were turning their weapons to face it. in that direction. Infantry and machine guns opened up. Horses and riders fell like dominoes. In the wide open plain, there was nothing else to hit but the enemy. The field filled with horses, some wounded, trying and failing to get back on their feet. Those that did were shot again. Riders . . . those that could still stand after getting tossed from their horses, stood and ran back to the forest they had come from. Many of them ended up getting shot in the back.

Captain Bissinger had his platoons open fire as well.

This was a massacre. I retreated from the sight, and played it over in my mind. Memories flashed back into my head of an enemy soldier at Gross-Vidal with his legs trapped underneath a tank.

"Are you alright?" Mitzer asked.

"I'll be fine," I said.

"If you're interested, Captain Mohnke charged those armored roller skates and drove them back. He also got some help, a half dozen armored cars. They're talking about an awful lot of wrecked tanks, and a few survivors are in full retreat."

I barely heard him. My mind was already filled with sights and sounds that I wanted driven out of my memories. I could not help but play the vision over and over again in my thoughts, until they were permanently carved into my memory.

"Let's get some work done," I told Mitzer. "I've seen a lot of infantry across the valley moving off to our right. I think they may be trying to get around us. That's something that the major may need to know."

Still, I staggered, more than walked, back to the motorcycle.

"Are you wounded?" Mitzer asked.

"Not in any way that you would notice," I answered.
 

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I heard a metallic thunk, and then the hiss of the bullet. Another thunk hit the bike, then another. Mitzer and I were still alive. We were heading for the buildings on the right side of the German line, and found that the enemy had already claimed the place for themselves. Some Pole sharpshooter had us in his sights.

Mitzer snapped the bike around to the right. I did not like the fact that he put me in the way between him and the enemy bullets. He found something that looked like cover and dove off the bike. It stopped quickly, then I jumped out and dove for shelter as well.

We were in the middle of a platoon of infantry, struggling for whatever defensive ground was available. They, and the bike, gave the enemy extra targets to shoot at. The bike was filling up with holes. I could smell gasoline.

Bullets still whizzed overhead. Some soldiers to our right took hits.

Another platoon was arriving from the south. To our right, Captain Blissinger had just taken back those buildings with two enemy platoons, one of which was firing on the flank of this building. We also had infantry high on the hill behind us firing into the buildings. The bullets of their machine guns formed a wide spray around the doors and windows being targeted.

Then came the artillery. Command offered us the use of a single battery. I had seen a spotting round land on the other side of the building. The next one was a little closer. The third shell fell into the hedgerow between two buildings, blowing the windows out of each. Then came the order to fire for effect. Explosions then started landing all over the place.

The infantry of three platoons added their firepower to the mix. The newly arrived platoon circled around slightly to the right, then both platoons stood and rushed the buildings. We stood and followed.

The enemy abandoned the position and retreated back onto the grassy field. there, they were easy targets.

I wasn't interested in the retreating infantry, I was interested in the units that had been circling further away around our right flank. To the best of my knowledge, they had gone into a gulley less than a kilometer away.

The enemy retreated.

Fortunately, we found ourselves among one of two platoons moving to retake the lost buildings.

We drove the enemy out, but they did not go far. I hid behind the shattered walls of a building and looked out into the field, where a full company of infantry was out in the field. After being driven from the building they lay down in the grass just a few tends of meters away, lay down behind what shelter they could find, and combined their fire against us.

I ducked behind the brick wall as bullets chipped and scarred it.

As I sat there, I wrapped the strap to the binoculars tightly around my hand. I did not really know that I was doing this, until I felt the pinch of the leather digging into my hand.

Again, I was doing nothing.

Taking a deep breath, I stood and took a peek. I brought my binoculars out and scanned the horizon.

I gasp at what I saw.

Across the grassy plains, behind the company that lay just outside our doorstep, I saw a company of infantry digging into the next line of houses. There was another set of houses just a few hundred meters to our right. It, too, contained enemy soldiers. The enemy had fully taken our flank.

"Mitzer, get on your radio. Tell them that there are two companies heading toward Dobron on the right. He's got to get that battalion of infantry to extend our line to protect Dobron."

Mitzer spoke his code into the radio.

A bullet sent a part of the rock wall splintering. A chip of rock hit me just below the right eye. I ducked. It was not a serious wound; nobody would think anything about it. But it made me sent of the luck involved in battle; I could be dead in an instant simply because the fates had declared it to be so.

Captain Blissinger's infantry was lining up inside the buildings. Sections fired their machineguns out on the prairie. There was not enough cover to do the enemy infantry any good. It was not as bad of a slaughter as I had seen against the cavalry minutes before, but it was bad enough.

On the far right, I heard a heavy thumping of machine guns. The farmhouse that contained the northernmost company of enemy soldiers had come under fire. The machineguns raised turned pieces of building into a cloud of dust. I could see enemy soldiers falling.

I looked at the ridgeline north of us. A company of infantry was lining up on the heights. They, too, started firing down on the buildings.

In just a few minutes, what had been two companies of infantry, had the power of at most a reinforced platoon.

There was still another company further back in the houses. They looked to be digging in. They were anchoring the enemy flank.

I looked at the line and imagined the effects that the enemy artillery could inflict, but the flank was secure.

Then I heard shots. At first, I only thought it was odd. The significance of these particular sounds impacted me like a bullet. I turned around and looked at the ridge east of our positions. There, I saw two platoons of infantry. They had outflanked our position and were getting through behind us.

Mitzer sat at the radio.

“They’re attacking the center, Mr. Schmidt,” Mitzer said. “They’ve got tanks on the edge of town. A heavy weapons company. A battalion of infantry. And . . . and there’s a hole between the third and second battalions wide enough to drive a division through. It’s a straight shot through the hole to our artillery and headquarters units.”

I hit the wall. “Get a motorcycle, a car, anything that moves.”
 

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As we left the shelter of the houses, I looked over to the grasslands behind the right flank. An entire battalion was lining up for a charge. Machine gunners and infantry, hidden behind a farm complex beside the main road to Pablianice, formed themselves up into squads, squads into platoons, platoons into companies, and companies into a battalion.

At about the same time we had decided to head toward the center, to see if we could help out there, 12th Company was given orders to pack up their heavy machine guns and move to reinforce the center.

Their heavy equipment slowed them down, so we were able to cross well ahead of them. We ran, as well as we could run, up the road to the top of the hill where I had originally scanned the fields below, and saw a full battalion closing in on a single platoon.

At the top of the hill, I stopped to catch my breath. For a moment, everything seemed peaceful. The enemy artillery was focusing on targets far on the right flank, where 5th Company was fighting the enemy tanks.

"They have driven the tanks away," Mitzer said, as if he had read my mind. I had to give the boy credit, he was a fast learner. He continued, "The right flank seems quiet. Captain Mohnke finally got the tanks he has been asking for, and they're having trouble finding things to shoot at. An AT gun took out one of our armored cars, and the shelling is a bit heavy, but they are not facing any immediate threat. The only real threat is to the center of our line."

I was beginning to see how much of a threat it was.

In the valley, 10th Company formed a thin line back from the line of buildings to the foot of the hill I was sitting on. That line simply ended. From the foot of the forest to the trees ahead, there was nothing. I imagined a platoon of tanks coming at us, right along the side of the hill, past 10th Company, past us, and into the headquarters and artillery units right behind us.

I found two groups of enemy infantry in the trees on the hill overlooking 10th Company. However, both of them looked like they had taken a terrible mauling. They were not a threat.

12th Company lugged its heavy weapons up the road. But it was a steep road, and their weapons were heavy. 12th Company was struggling. It would take them a moment. Unless something unexpected broke in the next few minutes, 12th Company had the time it needed to get into place.

Behind the enemy infantry, beyond the trees, I could hear the sounds of a heavy firefight in progress and columns of smoke.

I took my map out.

The tree line formed a narrow band down the spine of the mountains. If 12th Company could get embedded in those trees, then the enemy infantry on the other side would be caught in the open, between 12th Company and the units holding Kosobudy.
 

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The leader of 12th Company, Captain Garihe, sped up the hill ahead of his soldiers. He looked amazingly young for a colonel, and I was surprised to find him to be the leader of a heavy weapons unit. Even a competent leader, who nonetheless looked like an inexperienced boy, would have a tough time commanding the respect of such a group.

I approached slowly, with Mitzer at my side. Garihe sent his driver to intercept us. Garihe approached Private Mitzer, who stopped and gave a salute.

"Who is this man, private?" the driver asked.

I spoke for myself. "My name is Mr. Schmidt. General Dietrich sent me here as an observer. My job is to watch the flow of battle and report back anything I may learn about possible improvements."

"The General sent a civilian to a battlefield? That's not likely. Running around here without a uniform, you'll get yourself shot by our own troops who do not have enough time to ask for credentials."

"I am well aware of the risks, Sergeant. What I want to tell Captain Garihe is that those trees you see running the length of that hill is a thin line. The units on this side of the forest are largely routed, but there is heavy fighting on the other side. If he travels along this side of the forest, and does not enter the trees until he reaches that far bend where the tree line starts to come back again, I suspect he can catch a large amount of the enemy in the open."

"Captain Garihe is capable of making up his own mind."

"I trust that Captain Garihe knows that the best way to keep his soldiers alive is to have as much information as possible. My job has been to observe the entire battle along this flank. I haven't been distracted by trying to get machine guns set up and keep troops from breaking and running during an artillery barrage. Tell him who I am. If he will see me, that's fine. If not, then I have work to do myself."

"No," answered the Sergeant. "Move along. Whatever your business is, it is not with us."

I bit my lip, but remained silent. Getting into a debate with an SS Sergeant is not widely thought of as the best route for a long and safe life. I signaled for Mitzer to follow me, and we continued our trot up the road.

The enemy soldiers hiding in the forest were not so desperate that they completely neglected the opportunity to take a few shots at us. We heard the bullets hiss past and the report of their rifles, and moved from a slow trot to a fast run.

Ahead of us, the road entered the forest, and I grew nervous. The trees could hide all sorts of dangers, and might cause us to catch even friendly troops unaware enough that they shoot first and ask questions later.

I stopped Mitzer on the hillside and looked down at the battle going on below.

I could see very little. The line of buildings that Captain Blissinger held continued to block the view of most of the battlefield. All I could see for sure from my vantage point is that Blissinger still held the line.

Off to his far right, the III Battalion of the 17th Infantry were moving forward. There were sounds of a major fight in our direction. Mortars popped off to our right and behind us a short distance. Then we heard heavy explosions in the directing of III Battalion's attack.

I was making my observations when Captain Garihe and his drive went by again. The Captain glanced in our direction, than returned his attention to the tree line.

Before entering the trees, Garihe had his driver turn right, off of the road, following the ridgeline below the trees. It was the same route that I would have suggested. The Sergeant turned out to be right, the Captain was quite capable of making up his own mind.

Suspecting that the Captain would draw any fire that came our way, I started to follow.

12th Company was marching in formation as it moved along the highway, but when it started along the hillside its platoons disbursed. Two platoons set up their weapons in the trees just off the side of the road. Then, two other platoons rushed forward and set up their weapons. They opened fire on whatever enemy forces they could see among the trees. As they shot, the first two platoons picked up and moved around them, setting up positions a little further forward, and opening up with their guns. In this manner, they leapfrogged their way along the hillside.

Artillery shells burst among the trees. Then, the trees filled up with smoke and 12th Company moved even closer to its enemy.

Somebody was in contact with 10th Company, on our right. As 12th Company moved along the hillside, the connecting elements of 10th Company started to wheel around as well, bringing the whole line forward.

Suddenly, the machine guns of 12th Company shifted their focus, away from the smoke-filled trees to enemy positions they could clearly see further along the tree line. But the noise from the smoke did not end. I could hear polish rifles, accompanied by German machine guns, in the smoke itself. Through the binoculars, I saw soldiers approach the edge of the smoke, weapons at the ready. They were waving the banners of 11th Company.

The artillery itself moved further along the tree line. First, it would blast the forest open with high explosive rounds, then cloud the tree line in smoke. Captain Garihe's soldiers would shift their fire further down the line, then 11th Company would move up along the trees and take out some more of the defenders.

“Mr. Schmidt,” Mitzer said. “I just thought you would want to know. 17th Infantry just surrounded and captured a Polish company. They’re reporting that they are meeting almost no resistance on the right side. And 5th Infantry on our left launched a counter-attack and made it all the way back to our starting position for the attack to cut off Pabianice.

It was clear, as we advanced, that the Polish attack had failed. There was no longer any fear that they would move past our line and capture the city of Kosobudy. Instead, the only question became how many Germans would die flushing them out of the forest. For all practical purposes, the battle had been won.
 

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I was with Colonel von Oberkamp when General Deitrich arrived. He had just returned, with his battalion, to the place where he originally intended to launch the attack to cut off Pabianice from the south. With the losses from the battle, his company had about 150 fewer people than it did when he first intended to attack. His 8th Company, the heavy weapons unit, was particularly hard hit. Yet, he was ready to force his soldiers into battle once again.

Dietrich came in, returned the Colonel's salute, but did not put the battalion commander at ease. "Colonel, I am extremely disappointed in you," he grumbled. His voice was low and steady. He spoke as if everything he had to say was a matter of fact.

Dietrich snapped and slammed von Oberkamp's desk. "Don't you EVEN show your backside to these Polish dogs again, Colonel. Do you understand me? You hold the ground you are given. That is your standing orders."

The General fought with himself a moment, and got his anger under control. "Once you decided to quit running and stand your ground, you did well. I can't fault you for that. The Poles threw seven battalions against you, and you held with three, without any prepared defenses. You deserve credit for as much. But, don't you ever again even hint to these Poles that they have any hope of driving us from even one inch of this land. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir," the Colonel answered.

"Don't worry," the General said, in a suddenly softer tone. He opened a satchel he was carrying and pulled out a small bag. He sat it on the desk. "Hand those out to your troops. God is with us. Have faith in that, and you will know that you have nothing to fear."

Deitrich then stared at me. "Mr. Schmidt. You will have a copy of your report to me before I go to bed tomorrow."

He left as abruptly as he came.

As soon as the General was away, Major von Oberkamp relaxed.

"Don't worry, Colonel. I'm a civilian. I'll tell the truth about what happened here. I'm a civilian, and he can't touch me."

"The truth?"

"Your retreat to Kosobudy is what saved the day. If you had not have done that, they would have cut your lines of communication."

"I would rather you didn't. The General hates anybody telling him that he is wrong. If he can't touch you, he'll go after the nearest person he can touch, and that would be me. You would do me a favor letting him think he's still a better commander than I am."

"You know otherwise."

Colonel von Oberkamp nodded with a smile. "Are you going to stick around for the attack? That's what you came for."

"I can't afford the delay," I told the Colonel. "I have already observed you in operation, and I do not share the General's opinion. I have already been told that Command wants me to go south and report on von Rundstedt's advance. He's using reserve motorized infantry to guard his flanks instead of traditional cavalry, so they want me to report on how well it is going."

As the Colonel spoke, he opened the bag and pulled out one of its coin-sized content. He stared at it a moment, then tossed it at me. It was a button, with the words "God mit uns" engraved on it.

"Go with God," said the Colonel.

"Thank you," I said, as I left. As soon as I was safely away from the Colonel's headquarters, I tossed the button aside.
 

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AUTHOR'S NOTE:

This classifies as my third decisive victory out of three, which suggests that I may need to shift the balance of the scenarios in favor of the Poles.

I like winning, but I like a good story better, so I think I need to shift the balance slightly in favor of the computer in future scenarios.

Over in the Blitz wargaming club, a member identified as McIvan recently (Feb. 11) published a "Beginner's Guide" a couple of weeks ago on the strategy of winning a scenario by anticipating what the designer expected you to do, and do something unexpected instead. He suggests, "it makes more sense to attack mostly on one flank or the other," which is an easy lesson to learn from my postings of my first two games.

In this game, too, my strategy was to try something unexpected. The presence of victory hexes along the road strongly hinted at the possibility of a Polish attack to take the road (which I needed to work into the story), so I pulled my units back in defense of Kosobudy rather than continue with the (expected) attack to cut off Pabianice from the South.

I actually did not expect a decisive victory in this game. I was expecting that, with the decision not to attack on the east, the game would be a draw. The huge number of enemy casualties that made the difference.

I do hope that fans of the series find these stories a worthy contribution to their enjoyment of the game. I am, as always, open to advice, suggestions, requests, propaganda, petitions, and bribes concerning any future AAR.

I write these stories for the pleasure of those who may read them.

Enjoy.

Sir Richard
 

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I must say you once again impressed my with your writing ability:cheeky: Did you take an classes on write other than the required? Anyways I look forward to you next enstalment:D

SoccerDJ
 

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I took no classes in writing, but I have always enjoyed writing stories. Creating AARs for my games is a habit of mine -- as entertaining to me as a PBEM game would be to most participants here. So, I have a lot of experience.

Though, really, I only enjoy this if I know that others have enjoyed it as well. So, I thank you for your comments.

Sir Richard
 
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