Sliding one inconspicuous part across, the old man pursed his lips in triumph.
“I believe the Marshall wishes for a GRU raw brief at his headquarters on a regular basis, Comrade General.”
“That is part of it,” he paused in his attempt to conquer the box and the message was passed back to Nazarbayeva.
“Read it aloud, Tatiana. I may have misunderstood it.”
She missed the grin on Pekunin’s face, clearing her throat and feeling the first wave of chills as her body fought the virus.
“Comrade Pekunin, please arrange for this officer to deliver briefings at my headquarters on a regular basis. Promote her to full colonel immediately or risk losing her to my personal staff. Zhukov.”
Another panel slid away, permitting Pekunin to move the final piece, exposing the interior of the box.
“No, I did not misunderstand it. I will draft the paperwork shortly. In the meantime, you look awful. Take yourself off to your quarters and I do not want to see you until breakfast tomorrow. Clear Comrade Polkovnik?”
“Yes, Comrade General, but there is the other matter.”
Beria’s note lay unread.
“It will wait, Polkovnik.”
“No, Sir, it wil…”
Pekunin stood and moved to the door, opening it wide.
“It will wait, Polkovnik.”
“Clear, thank you, Sir.”
Chapter 62 – THE RETREAT
There is no victory at bargain basement prices.
Colonel Thomas Bell Hood was exhausted, having been on the go constantly since day one of the Soviet attacks.
His shift had started at 0130 hrs, when an orderly had awakened him with his favourite breakfast tea.
By 0200 hrs, the fifty-four year old staff officer was downstairs in the centre of operations, examining the progress of the Russian thrusts.
The Allied troops were fighting hard, but the main campaign map left no doubt that the situation was dire. Five main Soviet developments were cutting through Allied defensive positions.
Around Hamburg, north and south, advances had been made. The British were performing miracles but having to give ground, their whole position weakened now that Hamburg itself has fallen.
A Soviet force had struck out north-west from Hannover whilst others reduced the city. Hood expected to have to report its loss to Eisenhower when the General was roused at 0430.
A dangerous pincer movement seemed to be forming, the northern jaw based upon Kassel, the southern part on Giessen. Bradley’s command was desperately pulling their troops out of the way but it would be a close run thing.
Taking up the newly arrived mug of coffee, his eyes sought the next major threat.
The thrust could be going to a number of places, one or all of Mannheim, Karlsruhe or Stuttgart. That it was already threatening the rear of Nurnberg was a severe issue and one that Bradley was addressing by the only means available to him; giving up ground to preserve his force.
Hood gulped the caffeine laden drink down as he found the final problem.
Munich.
Thrusts north and south of the city threatened to surround it but it had not yet been abandoned. Fighting was severe, but the Soviets were being bled white for every yard and the commanders on the ground were optimistic that the advance could be stopped.
The situation map reflected other smaller successes for the Red Army but the five that stood out had exploded into life with their renewed offensive last Monday morning.
Two more reports arrived in front of Hood, which matters he would include in a folder for Ike’s morning brief if important enough. Unless they were absolute dynamite, he would not wake his commander in Chief.
Finishing the last of his coffee, he examined the preliminary reports of RAF night attacks on numerous river crossing points on the Elbe, Leine, Main, Donau and Tauber.
Seeking out a refill, he waited as the orderly did his job. The document seemed encouraging, although initial reports of aircraft losses dented his enthusiasm. RAF Bomber Command had suffered fearful losses since the start of hostilities, from flak to sabotage, night-fighters to accidents. Losses were certainly exceeding the ability to replace, both in crews and aircraft.
USAAF squadrons would do their work in daylight. but they too were suffering high losses.
None the less, the Soviet advances were slowed by the Air force’s efforts to interdict their logistic and support infrastructure, unless something hitherto unsuspected was causing the Soviets problem.
Drinking more coffee, he started to re-read the report, a useful habit he had acquired following a small error in his early staff days.
Movement caught Hood’s eye, and he noticed the expansion of the Russian advance to the outskirts of Heilbronn.
‘Stuttgart then?’
He posed the question without being able to confidently answer.
From the look of the allied dispositions, the Army Commander was protecting the Rhine in preference, whilst still holding as much of the Neckar River barrier as he could.
An extremely tired looking USAAF Major placed another air combat report in front of Hood, turning and walking away like a zombie.
‘The staff are out on their feet here. We need to get the people rested.’
Immediately snorting at the words of his inner compassionate voice, his sensible and realistic side reminded him of a military maxim, the origin of which was lost in time.
‘We can all rest when we are dead.’
In the meantime, there was a war to be won.
Hood downed the hot drink in one, hoping the caffeine rush would give him the kick start he still needed.
Skimming the new report, the Colonel noted with satisfaction that the Elbe bridges at Lauenburg were believed totally wrecked.
He assembled the paperwork and into the morning brief folder it went, and the tired officer went in search of yet more coffee.
Allied forces – Fox Company, 2nd Battalion, 255th Infantry Regiment, Battalion HQ and HQ Battery, 861st Artillery Battalion, all of 63rd US Infantry Division, US 23 Corps, US 15th Army, 12th US Army Group.
Soviet Forces – 2nd and 3rd Battalions, Anti-Tank companies 179th Guards Rifle Regiment, 127th Guards Artillery Regiment, 59th Guards Rifle Division of 34th Guards Rifle Corps, 242nd Tank Brigade of 31st Tank Corps, all of 5th Guards Army of 2nd Red Banner Central European Front.
The soldiers of Fox Company had received the order to pull back, abandoning their positions between the two villages of Werdeck and Heroldhausen, covering the road south from Beimbach. Despite suffering grievous casualties, the unit had not seen a single Soviet ground soldier from day one of the new war. None the less, just under half of the men alive on the 6th were still capable of carrying a rifle, the rest succumbing to air and artillery attack, either filling hospital beds or shallow graves.
Morale was low. 2nd/255th had advanced with the 12th Armored, only to be caught up in the debacle of Reichenberg, covering the retreat of the shattered CC’B’.
Yet again, with no enemy in sight, the company was ordered back.
Captain Pritchard consulted his map and drew his surviving commander’s close.
“Regiment wants us back at Diembot soon as, securing the river crossing. No immediate threat is known, but they want us there by 0630 latest.”
He made sure each of the six men could see where he was pointing.
“Once there, they want us to send vehicles down to here,” he dabbed his finger at Eichenau, “Where some of our engineers are wiring the bridge. We bring some of them back and prep the Diembot Bridge for the same.”