The whole of the division’s vehicles and support equipment was being loaded onto those vessels in preparation for the impending invasion. Tanks, infantry fighting vehicles, assault guns, mobile flak, self-propelled gun- and rocket-artillery… all were being stowed aboard the huge ships along with dozens of lesser support vehicles: enough vehicles to arm and support the five thousand men of the 2nd SS Shock Division.
Much like the division they were assisting that day, the entirety of their own division had handed in their older P-3 tanks, half tracks and other armoured vehicles in exchange for models straight off the production lines at Henschel, MAN and Daimler-Benz. Most of the new vehicles had been derived from the same basic tank chassis — a completely new design with the RWM ordnance inventory designation of Sd.Kfz.161 that was known to the troops as the P-4A Panther.
Weighing more than forty tonnes, the new Panther was much larger than the P-3C it replaced, but its advanced diesel engine nevertheless gave it a far higher top road speed of 65km/hr and also a far greater unrefuelled range There was also the facility to allow the attachment of a pair of standard 200-litre fuel drums to the rear hull of the vehicle that could extend its range even further by linking directly to the fuel system, yet remained able to be jettisoned at any time should the tank need to enter combat.
A wide, low-set and almost hemispherical turret sat upon a long and equally low hull that carried no bow machine gun and just the driver forward. Main armament was the 8.8cm KWK49, an improved variant of the well-known and lethal 88mm Flak-36 that had already proven itself against enemy armour as a towed anti-aircraft gun in France and the Low Countries. A single 7.92mm MG3C machine gun was mounted co-axially with the main armament, and a single 13mm heavy machine gun was also carried above the loaders hatch for AA defence.
Although the turret was a little cramped compared to the old P-3C, the tank itself had quickly proven its capabilities on the training ground and at the firing range. The main gun could hit targets out to 2,000 metres with reasonable accuracy, and all of the anti-tank shell types it could fire were lethal at that range, with eighty rounds in total carried within the turret and hull. The armour was also substantially improved and was as thick as 150mm on the turret front and hull glacis plate. That hull glacis plate was heavily sloped to help deflect any enemy fire, the same intention behind the rounded shape of the turret.
An infantry fighting vehicle, assault gun, rocket launcher, two types of medium artillery and a self-propelled flak vehicle had also been developed from that basic hull layout and powerplant, and were all now part of a vastly improved armoured force that formed the core of all of the newly-equipped SS shock divisions.
Wisch was as impressed as any of the others by the new equipment and was certain they’d make a huge impact on the enemy wherever they were encountered, albeit in moderate numbers, as production was yet to catch up with demand, and only SS units had been equipped so far. The medium-velocity 75mm gun of the P-2 and P-3 tanks they’d replaced had been able to defeat the armour of the British Matilda II, but only at ranges close enough to allow the enemy tanks’ two-pounders some chance of inflicting damage in return, and the tankers were now looking forward to getting the opportunity to hit the enemy at ranges well beyond the Brit’s capability to strike back.
The sounds of air raid sirens rose about the harbour at that moment, although no one within sight seemed to take all that much notice. The threat of attack by RAF was all but non-existent now, and of the three warnings raised since they’d arrived the week before, all so far had been false alarms over the mistaken identity of returning Luftwaffe bombers. In this case, the alert was in fact due to the approach of a British aircraft, and all were surprised by the sight of an RAF Mustang reconnaissance aircraft as it howled past high overhead at top speed, disappearing off to the east as quickly as it had appeared. The PR variant of the Mustang was still the only aircraft the British possessed that was too fast to be caught by Luftwaffe fighters, but losses had nevertheless been comparatively high to ground fire, and the remaining aircraft were now used only sparingly.
Most of the men of the 3rd SS Shock Division suspected it mattered little now anyway if the enemy knew what was going on in the Channel Ports… the invasion seemed inevitable now, and none expected the British to have much hope of stopping it either before or after the Wehrmacht landed on English soil.
“We’re coming, Tommy,” Schmidt muttered mostly to himself, echoing the thoughts of the men around him. He turned to stare off to the west once more, as if the buildings of the docks and the towering shapes of the LSTs moored there were no hindrance to him actually casting his eyes across the distant enemy coast.
“Soon now, sir,” Wisch observed beside him, drawing deeply on a cigarette and blowing smoke rings into the calm air.
“Very soon,” Schmidt nodded in agreement. “A week or two now, maybe three… can’t keep fighting men inactive for much more than that or they start becoming more trouble than we’re worth. They’d prefer us to expend our energy on the enemy rather than falling foul of the ‘Chain-Dogs’,” he continued, referring in a less than complimentary manner to the Wehrmacht’s own feldgendarmerie — the military police — who wore polished gorgettes on chains around their necks as identification. “Get the chance for you to put a few more stripes on that barrel, now they’ve given us one with a bit more length to work with!”
“He’s always been obsessed with ‘length’, Milo!” One of the other men observed with a lewd grin. “You want to watch yourself there…”
“Some of us at least have something worth firing, Gunther,” Schmidt shot back instantly without missing a beat. “At least, that’s what your mother tells me!”
“Sounds like my ma… I’d get yourself checked out at the infirmary if you’ve been playing about with her…!” Gunther pulled a face, but made no effort to disagree as the rest of the group laughed.
“They know we’re coming,” Wisch said softly, still thinking about the RAF fighter as he puffed on the cigarette once more.
“Oh they know all right,” Schmidt nodded, “but they don’t know exactly when, and there’s no need to give ‘em any more warning than we have to.”
“Won’t make any difference,” another of the crewmen grinned, youthful pride in his voice. “Our new Panthers won’t stop ‘til we get to London…!”
“Think like that, and you’ll be coming back from London in a box!” Schmidt shot back with a laugh, standing behind the young man and playfully cuffing him on the back of the head. “Any panzer can be killed… if you’re stupid or careless.”
“Here’s to not being stupid or careless then,” An NCO offered as a toast, passing around a large canteen of water for all to sample.
“Here’s to that indeed…!” Schmidt agreed, and they all raised make-believe glasses or cigarettes as proxies.
Hindsight emergency airstrip ‘Alternate’
Eday, Orkney Islands
Thorne had visited Ritter at least once a day during his imprisonment at Lyness. Most of the time had been spent walking and talking around various parts of Hoy and South Walls. With the ubiquitous pair of armed guards in tow, the Australian had put a great deal of effort into getting to know the man they held captive, and at the same time he’d knowingly and intentionally allowed Carl Ritter to see a good deal of the man ‘behind’ Max Thorne.