Major Foster approached clutching some new paperwork, presenting it for her commander’s attention and signature.
“Nervous, Anne Marie?”
“Yessir.”
Eisenhower grunted.
“Well, so you should be. This isn’t going to be a walk in the park; just the first step on a long trail to victory.”
He stopped short, realising he had just quoted from a speech he was working on.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to lecture. But…”
His voice tailed off.
Tedder’s aide was moving quickly through the throng of officers, one man in a sea of men, but one that stood out as having purpose in his movements and, to Ike’s eye, a purpose that was not going to bring positive news to his attention.
For once, Eisenhower’s memory failed him and he could not recall the man’s name.
“Squadron-Leader. You look like a man on a mission.”
“Sir, Marshal Tedder thinks you should see this immediately.”
Eisenhower read the report and the colour drained from his face.
“Walt… Brad… George… gentlemen.”
He held up the report, almost as a lure, bringing his senior advisors into a huddle.
“Arthur sends us news that his night assets have detected large scale movements by Soviet units in the area of our diversionary attack.” The report made its way to Bradley, then Bedell-Smith, doing the rounds as each man used the time to arrange his thoughts.
“Ok, Gentlemen. This would seem to indicate that the enemy knows we’re going to attack. They may not know the timings, of course, but this is not regular activity as I see it.”
He turned to the RAF officer who shook his head in support of Ike’s belief.
“So, do we halt the attack? Do we let it go on in? Do we have any other alternatives?”
Both Patton and Bradley went to speak and, unusually for George Patton, he permitted Bradley to continue without interruption.
“Sir, this is a diversionary attack. Its success is based around providing a diversion and drawing some of the enemy’s assets down.”
Ike consulted the report again and continued, quoting directly.
“Evidence of redeployment by many Soviet units in the area of Rainbow Black’s deployment and beyond. Movement considered likely repositioning of forces to alternate positions.”
He tapped the paper with the back of his fingers.
“Here…this bit. Sizeable forces seem to be moving south from the Cologne area. The hounds are going to fall upon them.”
He gently placed the paper on the small table and took up a new cigarette.
Patton took his chance.
“Ike, we gotta let ’em go on in. As Brad says, it’s a diversion, and it seems it sure as hell got the bastards’ attention already.”
His finger poked the report.
“They’re shifting their assets in case we take them out with pre-planned barrages. Hell, we might even get some hard intel from the air boys as to where they’ve relocated. Either how, we gotta let ’em go, Ike.”
It made sense, although there was not a man there that didn’t understand that the price had just gone up and that many more would die.
His mind made up, Eisenhower called the Comms Officer.
“Get me General Devers on the phone, then General De Lattre please.”
Von Vietinghoff clicked his heels, coming to the attention.
“Herr General, if you please. May I speak with the ground commander myself?”
Not a man there failed to understand why that request had been made.
“Certainly, General. And please give them my best wishes and my sincere apologies that I cannot relieve them of this onerous duty.”
Von Vietinghoff saluted and went to place his own call as Eisenhower took the phone’s handset and started to brief General Devers as to what his command was about to walk into.
The main headquarters was safely placed out of harm’s way at Sarrebourg, but those who would directly control affairs were somewhat closer to the action, five kilometres behind the jump off point, north of Saverne.
In the town hall of Pfalzburg, or Phalsbourg, depending on which nation had prepared the map that day, a number of officers were gathered, taking and issuing final orders.
When the phone had rung, it had not seemed out of the ordinary, submersed in a sea of such phone calls and the general hubbub of a military headquarters preparing for combat. Its content had announced itself as important by the look of thunder that it brought to the face of the Legion General. As he listened to the words of a German General, many miles away in Versailles, a quiet descended on the room, as more and more noticed the genuine pain that spread across Lavalle’s face.
“I see. Thank you for letting us know, Herr General.”
The silence was complete as Lavalle finished the call.
“Yes, I’ll give them your best wishes. Thank you, Herr General.”
A number of minds were already working overtime, piecing together the little information they had.
‘A German General… is ringing us direct… best wishes.’
Lavalle had the floor.
“That was General Von Vietinghoff, ringing from SHAEF main headquarters.”
Ernst-August Knocke pre-empted the moment with a few simple words.
“They know we’re coming, don’t they?”
Eyes that had sprung to the black clad Legion Officer slowly returned to their commander, Lavalle, who could only agree.
“Yes, they know.”
St. Clair, who had been about to leave for his forward post, asked the question foremost in the thoughts of all.
“And they still want us to go, Mon General?”
“Our orders stand.”
“Scheisse verdamnt!”
“Agreed, Derbo. Now, legionnaires, let’s use the time left to do what we can.”
In truth, that was very little, except to let their men know that the enemy was not going to be asleep, but wide-awake and ready for their attack.
Lavalle took Molyneux’s phone call, only half-listening to the man’s exhortations and revellings in the glorious opportunities presented by war.
He excused himself and cut the call short, terminating Molyneux in mid-rant about the value of the bayonet.
Knocke looked at him enquiringly.
“I believe our leader feels we should bayonet charge them and put them to flight before marching on Berlin.”
The smile was genuine, as was the calm that the legend exuded.
There was no one else in earshot, so Knocke spoke as they normally did in private.
“To be frank, Christophe, I’m glad that Plummer is there to keep a rein on the man. It saves me disobeying orders. Anyway…”
As he spoke, he sketched a new fire plan on the spare map he had just unfolded.
Lavalle examined it and could only agree.
“That would fit in with the projections you made on secondary positions. Shame we can’t get anything more from headquarters, but I see no sense in wasting our ammo on empty trenches. We’ll go with that, Ernst.”
Knocke made to move away but Lavalle intercepted him, taking hold of the map.
“I’ll speak to the Arty. You get yourself to your HQ now. Look after yourself, Ernst. Good luck.”
“And good luck to you, my friend.”
They shook hands as friends and saluted as comrades in arms before Knocke left the building.
As the jeep bounced down the road, Ernst Knocke found himself thinking about the trials ahead and his normal confidence surfaced.
Confidence in the abilities of his men was a given.
Confidence in the abilities of Legion officers like Lavalle and St.Clair had been well earned.
Confidence in the abilities of those who stood in overall command…