“Before we go, lads.”
Charles turned to Lady Godiva II, the Centurion II now totally wrecked and turretless, ravaged by internal explosions and still smoking.
“Atten-shun.”
Each man tried, in his own fashion, to salute the wreck and the friend who lay within it.
“Right… move!”
Turning their backs on the airborne destroyers, the party limped away to the north-west, avoiding Route 104, hoping to find friendly forces near Gadebusch.
Behind them, the victorious forces of 1st Baltic pushed northwards, creating a potential disaster for 21st Army Group
Gadebusch had fallen quickly, as the skeleton force defending it was taken by surprise, unaware that the Grenadiers to their front had been overwhelmed.
Holdorf was proving more difficult a task, and the 16th Tank Corps had already been thrown back twice.
Trufanov was still ranting at anyone and everyone who came in range, including the two hapless Colonels, who he dragged along, probably just for that purpose.
The losses in the lead formations had been murderous, and the arrival of enemy aircraft delivering bombs over his rear echelon units, did nothing to improve Trufanov’s humour, especially as he had personally ordered his fuel train into Lützow an hour beforehand.
Regimental and Battalion commanders were berated, or their deputies received the blast if the original commander had been killed in discharging their orders. Surviving officers were relieved and ordered back to headquarters under arrest, the whole hierarchy of the Tank Corps made unstable through the actions of a man losing his mind under pressure.
The main door of the Rathaus swung open under the guidance of two guards, who admitted a small party without challenge.
Trufanov was in full swing, the Major commanding 37th Separate Engineer Battalion somehow receiving both barrels for something that occurred at Pokrent, a place he and his unit had never been or seen.
The Major stiffened, immediately followed by Pavelkhin and Maslov.
Trufanov was in a world of his own.
“You fucking moron! How can you knock down two bridges? You’re relieved. Consider yourself under arrest! When I’ve sorted this fucking mess out, you’ll be lucky to just be counting fucking trees, you useless bastard!”
Trufanov stopped dead, realising that eyes were not on him, but elsewhere, eyes that held knowledge to which he sensed he ought to be privy.
He turned, ready to chastise whichever idiot had ventured within range, and immediately decided to keep his mouth very firmly shut.
The new arrival spoke first.
“Good evening, Comrade Mayor General.”
Trufanov came to attention and saluted.
“Comrade Leytenant General. I regret that I’d no idea you were coming.”
“Indeed, Comrade Trufanov, so it would appear.”
The NKVD Lieutenant General was known to only one person in the headquarters by sight, but to everyone by name and reputation.
“I was attending your headquarters on a social call, but now I find something that draws me to duty.”
He removed his hat and polished his glasses, the dust from his brush with the night bombers obscuring his vision in the artificial kerosene lighting.
His roving eye caught sight of the young signals officer, but his face remained impassive.
Replacing his glasses, he suddenly seemed to remember something.
“My apologies, Comrade. I am Leytenant General Nikolai Georgievich Khannikov.”
Everyone now knew that they were in the presence of the head of the 1st Baltic Front’s SMERSH units.
More than one heart pumped at twice the rate when the name fell upon their ears.
“Right then, Comrade Trufanov, what the hell is going on here?”
Trufanov fell to the task of allocating blame with a will, singling out the two Colonels for most of the denouncing, tossing in the names of some dead regimental commanders for good measure, and exonerating himself in the process.
“Well, that’s a very sorry state of affairs. What do you two have to say for yourselves?”
“Comrade Leytenant General. It’s not as Comrade Trufanov states. He relieved us from duty for some perceived indiscretion prior to the main attack.”
Trufanov drew breath but a single raised finger stopped him before he could rant his innocence.
“Continue, Polkovnik.”
“Sir, it was his order that sent our units into a killing zone. We were ordered to be silent and placed under arrest, as have a number of capable officers. The General is seeking to blame others for his own issues, and continues to do so now, Comrade Leytenant General.”
Trufanov heaved air into his lungs again, and again, the single finger stopped him dead.
“Wait.”
Khannikov already had a flavour of what was going on; the sounds of ranting had found him long before he entered the Rathaus.
Despite being NKVD and a member of SMERSH, he was a combat soldier, and his read of the battlefield, even by moonlight, was that something had gone badly wrong.
“So, what am I to do here? I have a General telling me one thing, and two arrested Colonels telling me another. Message logs.”
He held out his hand, the imperative quite clear.
The signals Major quickly swept up the necessary paperwork and presented them smartly to the NKVD officer.
“These are all?”
“They are all the records we have, Comrade Leytenant General.”
“Stand at ease, Comrade Mayor.”
The young man did so, relaxing slightly more than would be expected in the presence of such a dangerous man.
“If I read these, what will I find, Comrade Mayor.”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Mayor Golubtsov spoke clearly and decisively.
“Comrade Leytenant General, you will find that some messages are not present, as they have been removed. Those messages would entirely support the version of events given by Polkovniks Pavelkhin and Maslov.”
Trufanov managed to stutter a few words.
“You too? You traitor… liar…”
Khannikov looked Trufanov in the eye.
“If I have to tell you to be quiet one more time, I will take you outside and neck shoot you myself. Is that clear, Comrade?”
Trufanov could only nod.
“Now, Mayor. Where are these missing records?”
“General Trufanov destroyed them before we moved to this location, Comrade Leytenant General.”
“A serious matter, Comrade Mayor.”
“Yes, Comrade Leytenant General.”
The rest of the headquarters staff, and particularly the communications group, were all studiously avoiding involvement, undertaking the mundane tasks that kept them away from scrutiny.
“Comrade Trufanov. What do you have to say?”
“Liars, all liars! My orders were disobeyed and undermined at every turn. He,” the accusatory finger singled out the signals Major, “He has removed the messages that support what I am saying. He’s a traitor and an enemy of the state! I demand you arrest him… and them!”
The finger swivelled to the Colonels.
“Thank you, Comrade Mayor General.”
The men behind the NKVD officer tensed, holding their weapons slightly tighter, as they knew that the end was in sight.
“Polkovnik?”
“Pavelkhin, Comrade Leytenant General.”
“Comrade Pavelkhin, Comrade Maslov. You are reinstated. Resume your commands immediately…”
“They’re all ly…”
He turned as rapidly as a cobra striking its prey.
“Shut your fucking mouth!”
Trufanov’s protest died as quickly as it started, and was replaced by the icy grip of fear.
“I want this mess sorted out as quickly as possible. Who’s in command?”