He then considered a viable defense of the town as insurmountable, even counting the stragglers who were about to be temporarily inducted into their ranks. They were too few, and he said as much to the captain.
“It was never my intention to transform Veranovka into a strongpoint, Lieutenant. The best we can hope to accomplish is to maintain observation of all four cardinal points. My guess is we have twenty-four to thirty-six hours before a sizeable enemy force inhabits this immediate sector and that will be in the form of advance reconnaissance parties. But we needn’t bother with them. We have bigger fish to fry.”
Voss was intrigued at how the captain arrived at this particular time frame. Was it Khan’s interpretation of omens, or a strategic calculation Falkenstein formulated from scant enemy radio transmissions? Maybe it was something said by the Red Army tank crewman from the night before. He thought better not to ask, especially about the latter, as it would only stir up the memory of his own insubordinate behavior. The captain had not forgotten what had occurred, of that he was sure.
“Red Vengeance’s success has always taken place on the steppe. If it can be lured into town, which I believe our presence here will accomplish, these houses and buildings will afford us an advantage. The signalman on the water tower can observe every move in town and the surroundings, but more importantly, he can inform us when the beast makes its approach. We will have several minutes to get into place. The real test will be a confrontation at night. I will have to consider the possibility of sending out advance patrols to signal in the event Red Vengeance is on its way, but with limited communication, that could prove difficult.”
“Indeed. Very flares, even radio could not only tip off Red Vengeance but also arouse the interest of a local Soviet reconnaissance unit,” Voss said.
“My thoughts exactly. Ideally, I would rather have Red Vengeance come to us than risk a confrontation on the steppe in the dark. We will see how it develops. Under the right circumstances, the Hanomag can ferry men and equipment to the initial flash point and be utilized as a firing platform for the panzerfausts. And with the proper cover, Vogel can bring the Two-Twenty-Two into close range, and I can do some minimal damage with this,” Falkenstein said, patting the 20 mm cannon. “Damage the cogs at least,” Falkenstein added, “or the road wheels.”
“But will Red Vengeance allow itself to be lured in? Judging by what Corporal Schroeder said in the initial debriefing, the tank didn’t launch an all-out attack on the hamlet where he and the rest of Corporal Angst’s squad were holed up. Granted, they were fired upon, but Red Vengeance kept its distance.”
“But not for long. You forget, Voss, they had hostages. The only trump card in their favor. Only we are here, and that will tempt Red Vengeance to enter.”
Yes, and the gallows will serve as a beacon of our presence and what the Wehrmacht is capable of, Voss thought, whether we were a party to it or not.
“How many panzerfausts in our possession?” Falkenstein asked.
“Two.”
Falkenstein groaned. “And mines?”
Voss did the arithmetic. “Three magnetic antitank mines and the satchel charge.”
“And the flamethrower.”
“Yes, sir. And there is Khan’s antitank rifle,” Voss reminded him.
“Oh well, it will have to do.” Falkenstein did not sound at all convincing as to the effectiveness of this meager arsenal. Voss wondered what the captain thought of their chances for success but refrained from asking.
33
Angst regarded the scene with bewilderment and disgust as he and Detwiler made their way out of the town square. The majority of the Ukrainians wore mismatched parts of Red Army and German uniforms; some were dressed in mufti and had armbands signifying their status as auxiliary police. “Circus freaks. The whole lot,” Angst commented.
Detwiler became agitated. “Don’t stare, for Christ’s sake. The Einsatzgruppen can be real terrors when they want to be.”
“What is it they do? I mean, what purpose do they actually serve?”
Detwiler shook his head in amazement at the question. “They enforce the policies of the Reich, here in the east. Does that explain it for you? The Einsatzgruppen have followed on the heels of the army since the beginning of the invasion, policing the occupied areas against partisans and undesirables, mainly.”
“Like that sorry bunch strung up at the edge of town?”
“They have their orders, same as us; so just leave it be.”
“I remember hearing wild rumors circulating back at my company—”
“Forget everything you heard back home or in France, or wherever the hell you came from. It will serve you no good here. There are times when you will be called upon to do things that aren’t particularly to your liking. Things that go against the grain as to how you were brought up, but you do it anyway. Some things you didn’t know you were capable of.” Detwiler had grown unusually reflective, for someone so crass and obnoxious in Angst’s estimation.
“What kind of things?” Angst asked, expecting the machine gunner to tell him to fuck off or utter some other obscenity, but to his surprise, Detwiler became rather loquacious. “Our unit was taken out of the line. It happened during last year’s summer offensive. We were to support a group much like this one, making a sweep of the villages of all partisans or communists. They were Jews mostly. We were ordered to shoot everyone—it didn’t matter, men, women, even kids. It was like drowning kittens if you have the stomach for such things. I saw a hundred peasants herded into a barn, the doors nailed shut, and then put to the torch. Their screams rang in my head for days. I couldn’t get drunk enough to dampen that noise.”
Angst was appalled. The rumors he had heard—spoken furtively back at camp, in France, back home—that were met with skepticism, caution, and denial were true. “All those people, civilians, why? What was the reason? What could they have done to deserve such a brutal fate?”
“You don’t ask why, you simply obey. They’re Untermenschen, and that’s all you need to know. You don’t argue with the likes of the Einsatzgruppen, are you crazy? Those SS fellows are committed like no one else on earth. I see someone burned alive inside a locked barn, I’m not about to have an opinion. All I can say is, better them than me.”