“No, Comrade Mayor, withdraw now… that’s an order.”
Artem’yev pointed to the situation map, drawing Deniken’s eyes to where the Major in question sought to press home his attack.
“No, Mayor. You’re the only one having successes. We’ve run into a prepared enemy. Call off your attack and withdraw to your start position… now, Sokolov…now!”
Żyznów had almost fallen before the assault of one of Artem’yev’s battalions and the keen commander had wanted to press on and occupy the village.
In fairness, Artem’yev conceded, the man does not know the full picture.
Satisfied with the response, he tossed the handset back to his radio operator and turned back to Deniken.
“Without a doubt, Comrade General, we’ve run into forces that were preparing to assault us. My casualties are bad but the plan’s running, young Sokolov aside.”
He waved his hand in the direction of the radio.
Deniken studied the map in silence.
Artem’yev took a long swig from a water bottle and joined him.
“I think we have a problem in that our timings are going to be totally fucked up, Comrade General… but… our plan to draw them on is going to work because they already intended to come.”
Deniken nodded and accepted the water bottle and slaked his own mounting thirst.
‘Nerves?’
Artem’yev read his thoughts.
“I always get thirsty in combat myself, Comrade General.”
“New one to me, Comrade Polkovnik. Perhaps the weight of command, eh?”
The infantryman accepted the water bottle back with a smile.
“Yes, Comrade… they will come on… but they won’t be as vulnerable as we hoped. They’ll be prepared for an advance, so things’ll be more difficult. None the less, the opportunity to destroy the SS bastards is here and we’ll seize upon it. Your assessment of our new timetable?”
Artem’yev looked at the distances involved and made a swift calculation.
“The SS of old would be up my arse in an instant… these bastards have the same reputation… they’ll take what they see as an opportunity and come on hard and fast… I’ll be back on the Klimontów line within the hour… units will filter in bit by bit but it will be established by 0330, no later.”
Deniken made his notes as the older man spoke.
“Here the trick will be not to retreat in such a way as to make them suspect anything… but fast enough to preserve my boys… I’m thinking 0430 to be back on the Śmiechowice to Samborzec defensive line.”
Nearby artillery hammered into the ground, dropping a few specks of earth across the maps.
The two grinned at each other.
“Like the SS bastards of old.”
“We beat them once. We’ll do it again, Comrade General.”
Deniken slapped his comrade on the shoulder.
“We will indeed… but only if we get this right. 0430 it is… I’ll hold you to that, Comrade. Keep them interested… keep them coming on… and at 0430, I’ll unleash the very devil upon them.”
They shook hands and Deniken rushed out into the darkness to make it back to his own headquarters before daylight brought the enemy’s aircraft buzzing round.
As his staff car leapt away, the night sky was riven by yet more enemy artillery as Camerone reacted to the 116th’s attack with its own advance.
Involuntarily he shivered, although both the morning and rain were warm enough.
‘Like the SS bastards of old… a hard day ahead…’
He shivered again, for he suspected that the Devil would accommodate both sides this day.
0250 hrs, Tuesday. 1st April 1947, Camerone Division Headquarters, Staszow, Poland.
Knocke examined the map and was cautiously pleased.
He wasn’t quite sure where the caution came from, for his main assault element was driving the enemy before them, not allowing them to settle into any defensive positions.
But the caution was there, an almost instinctive thing that made him examine the battlefield further afield.
Two of his three assault groups were now engaged, with only Haefali’s 3e Group as yet unblooded.
Uhlmann’s 1er Group was leading the way towards Koprzywnica, with Haefali’s men tucked in behind, ready for their phase to start.
Emmercy’s 2e Group were already investing Klimontów on the left flank, although the retreating Red Army were less inclined to give ground in that area than to the south, where larger inroads were being made.
The DRH forces, drawn from the Grossdeutschland Division, were advancing into the enemy lines and were well advanced down Route 74.
A battlegroup had already occupied the key position at Włostów, and would soon be in possession of the key junction at Lipnik, which meant that Route 77 would become available for Emmercy, once he had overcome resistance in Klimontów.
Up against the Vistula, the assault elements of Alma were moving steadily forward, maintaining pace with Uhlmann’s advance in order to keep the Camerone legionnaires’ left flank secure.
Everything was going well.
And yet…
‘I’ll move up now… get Truffaux up with the divisionalreserves… Route 9… just south of Wólka Gieraszowska… yes… yes, that’ll do… but into a defensive posture I think…’
He wished the Corps’ reserves were closer up but that was beyond his capabilities.
‘What’s the problem here?’
Knocke senses were alive with the scent of danger.
Morning would hopefully bring aerial reconnaissance information that would make the smell go away, but for now he pondered the map and the continuing reports, seeking the thing that troubled him.
Lavalle had his own suspicions and decided to do something outside the plan.
Only a small adjustment but once it was done he would feel easier.
“Colonel… Knocke will need some support I think so order Général Renat-Challes to move the Corps’ reserve units forward now. I want them at Sulisɫawice immediately… on and around the junction of Floriańska with Route 9. Also inform Général Knocke of my actions.”
The new CoS questioned him with a quiet look.
“Yes, Maurice, I know. It’s far forward but I want it done. And remind Général St.Clair that I want Alma sticking to Camerone’s right flank like glue.”
The man moved away to get Lavalle’s words transformed into action.
Somehow he felt easier for the call, and recalled the words of one of his instructors at St Cyr.
‘Small decisions can sometimes affect great enterprises.’
Not that he knew it, but between them Lavalle and Knocke had just saved their Corps from annihilation.
0321 hrs, Tuesday. 1st April 1947, two kilometres northeast of Koprzywnica, Poland.
The artillery fire was provided a constant ‘strobe effect’ of lighting for the Legion’s forces to advance.
Although not all were going forward.
Uhlmann’s tank was pulled over under a stand of trees as his driver checked the problem that was dogging the engine performance.
Whilst the regimental commander was delighted with most aspects of his Schwarzpanther, even though it was not one of the turbine versions that the DRH was equipping with, he was less than enamoured with its reliability, something his crew sweated over often.
The old problems with overheating and engine fires had been solved in peacetime, but the new beast suffered from electrical issues and often transmission problems, the latter of which often meant a tank lost until it was recovered, or at least in the workshops for a long time.