US counter-battery teams worked the problem and the pair of Soviet 203mm howitzers only got off one more shot each before ‘B’ Battery, 340th Field Artillery Battalion, the designated counter-battery unit, put its 105mm shells on target, permanently silencing the two huge guns and most of their crews.
“Yeah, we go in. They’ll confine their fire to the statues and all points east. Either radio or two red flares for we’re in. Any questions?”
The last Russian shell down fell near the Rangers headquarters group and vapourised the liaison officer from the 355th Regiment, along with his men.
“I’m good to go, Captain.”
In front of Barkmann’s assault group, Charlie Company had started piling it on, the bazooka shells providing more visible effect than actual substance amongst the defenders hidden in the rubble and tree trunk bunkers.
The 60mm mortars put down more smoke in an attempt to mask the assault’s left flank.
The order was given as soon as the smoke started to spread, and the three squads rose up as one.
A burst of fire, aimed speculatively by a defender, put one of the men running to Barkmann’s left down hard, and instinctively the group spread out either side of the silent man.
Each had a grenade in hand and, on hearing the breathless order, sent it flying towards the fountain area.
The Rangers hit the cold earth and tensed themselves.
The sound of so many grenades exploding in such a small time was, in itself, impressive.
Closely on the heels of the echoing explosions came the screams of men in extremis, awful sounds that could have come straight from a horror film.
Barkmann, leading from the front, vaulted a small log barrier and realised he was heading towards two stunned men.
Somehow he adjusted himself in mid-air and planted a boot in the face of one dazed man, smashing his nose and lips, sending him cartwheeling sideways.
Rolling and coming to one knee, the Ranger captain put a short burst into the body of the other man, whose sightless eyes had not seen the threat.
A second burst stilled the man with the bloodied face.
Another ranger came over the barrier and was immediately flung backwards by a PPSh burst that creatively ripped him open from groin to shoulder.
In turn, the enemy SMG man felt momentary pain as first a bayonet and then two shots took him in the back between the shoulder blades.
Ford pulled his Garand clear and used the momentum to smash the butt into the face of the next man who scurried round the corner of the fountain. The metal butt plate took the unfortunate man in the throat and he dropped to the muddy ground where Ford left him to asphyxiate.
The dying man was leading a surge of Russians, as the local commander realised the new threat and sent men to reinforce his right flank.
The Garand M1E20 saved his life as the eighteen rounds left decimated the eight-man group, putting every one of them on the ground in varying states of distress… or forever silent in four cases.
Barkmann moved up against the stone wall and put a small burst down the scrape from which the men had emerged.
Ford had a new clip in and gestured two men forward.
Producing the flare pistol, Barkmann put two red flares into the air in short order, and Charlie Company responded by moving fire away to the right, with no fire directed to any point left of the centrepiece statue.
Above Barkmann’s head, another head rose and its owner, intrigued by the flares that had just passed his nose, pulled out a pistol in order to shoot down into the Ranger’s commander at close range.
A bullet from Irlam’s Springfield sniper rifle dissuaded him, and the wounded man flew backwards into the faeces and watery slush beyond.
The covering party had been established to watch the left flank of the attackers, but Irlam had decided to take a hand in proceedings if he could.
Barkmann shouted to Ford as two more Rangers moved around the corner to back up the vanguard.
“Keep on here, Sergeant. I’m taking a squad around the wall this side. Watch out for friendlies, ok?”
“Yessir.”
Barkmann dropped to one knee and waved down Carrera.
With sign language he conveyed his plans and the newly-promoted Sergeant organised his squad in short order.
They moved off, keeping tight to the stone wall, with two men hanging back, their Garands trained on the wall above the squad’s heads, in case anyone displayed interest in their advance.
They made quick progress to the angle, where the lead man held out a hand, bringing the small party to a halt.
Four fingers indicated the number of enemy… and they were close at hand.
Carrera moved quickly up and took the bull by the horns.
The small position was isolated from its neighbours by a large fallen tree, under which a pathway had been created.
Detailing one of the BAR gunners to cover that, he checked that the two tail men were on the job and then readied his men, indicating that they should be silent.
In the log and sandbag position, four alert enemy soldiers served a 12.7mm DShK heavy machine-gun, and its muzzle was gently moving across the landscape, seeking out a target.
Alert… but looking the wrong way.
The five Rangers moved swiftly round the corner, keeping out of the line of fire of the BAR and, gathering pace, slammed into the defenders from the side.
Surprisingly, one man, an officer, reacted quickly enough to fire his pistol and Pfc Rigby stumbled as his leg was knocked out from underneath him.
A bayonet pinned the MG commander to the fallen tree and two rounds blasted the blade clear, ending his screams.
The other three Russians were clubbed and bayonetted to death quickly, but the damage had been done.
The BAR stuttered into life and bullets whizzed by, smashing into the face and shoulders that had emerged from the sunken pathway, sending the remaining parts bloodily back whence they had come.
Carrera quickly tossed a grenade down the same route and the resultant explosion took lives amongst the reacting enemy.
Realising the danger, Barkmann pulled the group back, and not before time as three grenades came over the top of the tree and landed amongst the fallen, causing the dead and stunned Soviet soldiers to suffer more indignities.
Behind them the sound of firing rose, and it became clear that Ford was in a serious gun battle.
Barkmann hesitated, undecided on whether to fall back, stay put, or advance.
His Ranger instincts took over, and he elected for a version of the latter.
Leaving the BAR and one man to cover them, he looked to the wall for a way out of the predicament.
Two men bridged a rifle between them and propelled Barkmann up on to the top of the wall.
He immediately felt very lonely and wished he had not been so bold, as fully twenty Soviet soldiers were assembling close by, ready for a rush against Ford’s position.
He quickly tossed a grenade and dropped down behind the sandbags, letting rip with his Thompson in short controlled bursts.
The sandbags started to disintegrate as return fire came close.
“Get grenades over the wall now… ten yards!”
A few of his men responded and threw their deadly charges where he instructed.
The enemy soldiers scattered but still some shrapnel hit home, causing some serious injuries.
Two Rangers joined their commander and started to pick off the stranded Russians.
Both were knocked off the wall in the same burst of fire and fell upon their comrades below.
Carrera organised the remainder and another two men joined Barkmann on the wall.
Combined with a surge by Ford and his men, the Russians gave ground, but not before another of Barkmann’s squad had gone down hard.