“We have been given the chance to bear arms once more, and now stand side by side with our former enemies, united with the French, British and Americans in a common cause.”
“Today, we lead an attack and start the bloody process that will start to roll back the communists, and ultimately secure the future of our Fatherland, Europe and the world.”
Nodding as he spoke, Knocke pressed on forcefully.
“On this battlefield a change will be made, and communism will know a defeat.”
“There will be other days, in other places; hard days for us all.”
A moment of silence and reflection.
Knocke nodded to himself, his mind acknowledging the future sacrifices that would be demanded of his troopers.
“But this Brigade, all of us…”
He paused to gather himself.
Every man felt the electricity of the moment.
“I,” a strange crackle of emotion affected the commanders’ voice, “Will not rest until the day this war is won.”
The moment passed and Knocke’s voice steadied.
“Some of us will die, as many of our comrades have already done on countless battlefields these last few years. But all of us will live on, remembered for what we do now, and the way we in which we do it.”
Stopping abruptly, the listeners heard his words softly echo round the room as Knocke gathered himself for his final words. He gently gesticulated around the group, singling out no man, encompassing all.
“Each of us knows that this must be done.”
“Each of us knows what is required of us.”
“Each of us knows what it may cost.”
And with a smile and real fire in his eyes, Knocke ventured.
“And yet, none of us would change places with others in safer places, eh?”
The gentle, relaxed laughter was not forced, but came naturally from men confident in their cause and leader.
“Now, Kameraden, truly, for the new European order, and for the Fatherland, let us do all we can, so that we can all go home again.”
Knocke punched the next words out so they would have the desired effect.
“Meine Herren” and the officers, as one, shot to attention. His tone softened but remained powerful. “Meine freunde, you are the best of the best, and it is an honour and privilege to command you.”
His crisp military salute was returned by the entire room.
“Good luck to you all.”
Watches were synchronised and the senior officers dismissed to their commands.
Lavalle offered his hand to Knocke and, not for the first time, the two shared a warm handshake.
“Ernst, I am off to get the rest of the Corps moving. If I can offer you anything else today then I will let you know, but I doubt it.”
Knocke shrugged, reconciled to the fact that the other units of the Corps would not be up for some time to come.
“Stay in touch, and good luck.”
They saluted each other and Lavalle left, mounting his staff car and speeding away.
Knocke was alone, all the staff engaged on last minute preparations.
He lit a cigarette.
Blowing the smoke over the map he saw it cling and roll, gently moving over the roads and contours, almost as the smoke of a battlefield.
His mind wandered over his capture by the French and the abomination of the Rheinweisenlager. His first meeting with Lavalle, and THE conversation.
‘Well, here we are now.’
When the proposition of teaching Allied soldiers had been discussed, he had agreed, expecting to be a classroom soldier until the Allies had no further use for him.
The Chateau on the 6th of August had changed that idea.
‘What is it the English say? Once again to the breach?’
Stubbing out the half-smoked cigarette, he strode to the full-length mirror to check his uniform.
The new armband drew critical attention, feeling both so wrong and so right in equal measure.
He fingered his throat decorations and ensured the ‘Pour-le-Merite’, was foremost.
Completing the ensemble, he placed the dark blue Kepi on his head, and paused to take in the figure before him.
Nodding his approval to the reflection, he turned smartly and left the room, his command tank starting up with a brusque instruction from Lutz, his NCO signaller, when he saw the Colonel approach.
The original concept of the Legion units had been to form ex-SS troopers under the command of French Officers. The plan never got off the ground, especially as existing French officers did not necessarily have the skill sets required to direct tanks in action.
Pragmatic as ever, the French had understood that the Waffen SS leadership would do the job for them, and so the units formed under mainly German command.
The attempt to relieve Stuttgart commenced under the direction of Colonel Ernst-August Knocke, whilst the most senior French officer in the Brigade was a Major.
It was a simple enough task, now Kowalski had declared himself. His every move was microscopically observed and recorded, and all those he associated with, however briefly, received their own dedicated teams.
Whilst Etienne Bossong welcomed the additional clientele that visited his wine shop, he remained unaware of the scrutiny he was under, a scrutiny that became more focussed when one of ‘Deux’s’ bright sparks made the connection with the Chateau du Haut-Kœnigsbourg.
Irma Schmidt, girlfriend of the ‘Polish’ Major, and one-time Luftnachrichtenhelferinnen, was given a clean bill of health, but still the watchers kept watching.
The same could not be said for Georges Heppel, an hotel worker with deeply hidden but impeccable connections to the pre-war French Communist Party, nor for Heinz Rüssel, a one-armed German baker, whose father was found to be a Spartacist. Most certainly not for octogenarian ex-army Colonel Christian Löwe, who had a previously unknown and decidedly unhealthy interest in powerful broadcasting equipment.
Following his contact instructions to the letter, Heppel inserted the message in the hollow cutlery and delivered breakfast to the agent’s room, knocking in the accepted manner.
In order to preserve the pretence of Knocke’s compliance, the message had to be accurate.
Which it was, reporting ‘Camerone’s’ movements and plans precisely.
It just happened to be too late to act upon the contents.
Sat in the hotel lobby, examining a magazine that pictorially and saucily depicted the latest Paris fashions, De Walle leant forward and stirred the newly-arrived coffee, noting with satisfaction the signal for success.
Heppel had eventually understood where his loyalties lay, and his sister’s continuing good health depended on his ability to carry on as normal under ‘new management’.
Allied forces – 1st Regiment du Marche, and 1st Regiment, Chars D’Assault, and 1st Engineer Battalion, and 1st Anti-tank Battalion, and 1st Chasseur D’Affrique, and 1st Recon Compagnie, and 1st Legion Artillery Battalion, all of 1st Legion Brigade de Chars D’Assault ‘Camerone’, and 5th Regiment du Marche, and 3rd Recon Compagnie, seconded from 3rd Legion Division ‘Alma’ to ‘Camerone’, all of Command Group ‘A’, of Legion Corps D’Assault, of 1st French Army, of US 6th Army Group.
Soviet forces – 162nd & 163rd Guards Rifle Regiments, and 125th Guards Artillery Regiment, all of 54th Guards Rifle Division, of 3rd Guards Rifle Corps, and 1st & 2nd Battalions, 36th Engineer-Sapper Brigade, and 1416th Self-Propelled Artillery Regiment, and 12th Guards Heavy Tank Regiment, and 65thTank Regiment, and 166th Tank Regiment, all of 59th Army, of 2nd Red Banner Central European Front.