Drawing in the rich tobacco smoke, Akinfeev outlined his plan.
Hanebury’s jeep led the way, bouncing over the uneven ground, followed by the M-8 Greyhound, then the Dodge 4x4, the final vehicle in line being the Horch 1A that had somehow fallen into their hands in Prague the previous year.
Meeting up with the Rue Principale, the column turned right and slowly headed north, whilst Stradely’s unit moved around to the east, using the reverse slope of the three hundred metre ridge to hide behind.
His unit was moving too fast, so Hanebury changed plans, waving the column to come to a halt. He also saw an error on his part and determined to reposition the Greyhound closer to the copse.
Standing up, he examined the area, fully expecting to see Smith and his squad, or at least part of it.
Unusually, there was nothing to see, which made him wonder if the position assessment had been correct.
He quickly examined the other possible positions and was greeted by the same nothingness.
‘Shit. Has he actually learned to conceal himself and his boys at last?’
“OK, Cowboy, move it up nice and slow.”
Hanebury decided to pull an extra on his men, and was given an opportunity almost immediately.
“Whoa!”
The jeep shuddered to an immediate halt.
“Suspected mined road ahead!”
He waved and gesticulated, the vehicles behind understanding what was required, as they swiftly responded, moving off to the either side, in case of ambush.
“Reek, you have the detail.”
With every weapon manned and ready, the MP group watched as Rickard moved forward to examine the area Hanebury found suspicious.
He carefully moved up to the area and inspected the body, satisfied that whatever it was, probably a dog, was dead.
Removing his bayonet, he gently probed the surrounding area until he satisfied himself that there was nothing more destructive present. Dragging the bloody corpse to one side, he trotted back to the waiting jeep.
“Fresh kill that, Top. Crushed under the wheels of something heavy I reckon.”
“Uh-huh.”
Such a response was unusual, and they all looked at Hanebury, who was clearly riveted by the view through his binoculars.
“What the fuck?”
Their attention turned to the copse that was consuming their leader.
The rear of a US Army Dodge was now apparent.
“Reek, use your sight. Check out that vehicle.”
Rickard grabbed his Springfield rifle and brought it up, using the sights to examine the Dodge.
“What the fuck?”
He thought quickly.
“From the dog, Top?”
“I thought that too, but that’s on the back of the vehicle.”
Minds worked in silence, until Rickard noted something else.
“Top, look off to the left, next to that little bush. See it?”
“Nope, nothi… shit.”
A US helmet lay upright, motionless, but full of warning.
Hanebury stretched carelessly and turned to Rickard.
“Laugh it off, Reek, just for the benefit of the audience, ok?”
Rickard relaxed too.
Hanebury flopped back into his seat.
“Radio.”
He held out his hand and the handset was pressed into it immediately.
“Pennsylvania-Six to Pennsylvania-Six-Two over.”
“Six, receiving loud and clear, over.”
“Six-two, remember the last item we discussed with the Captain before we took up this assignment, over.”
“Six, I do, over.”
“Six-two, execute immediately, over.”
“Six, roger, executing. Out.”
Hanebury, keeping his eyes firmly on the copse, gave the radio operator an instruction and the set was retuned to the required frequency.
“Pennsylvania-Six to Pennsylvania-six-two, receiving, over.”
“Six, receiving you loud and clear. What gives, over?”
With a sense of the dramatic, Hanebury could not resist the opportunity to repeat history.
“Six-two, this is no drill, I repeat, this is no drill. I believe we may have enemy in the position, that’s why I changed frequency. It’s possible that Six-four was been taken out. Change of plan follows, over.”
The smoothness of the frequency change and the adaptability of the soldiers were testimony to the leadership and training of the unit.
Grabbing his map, Hanebury made his adjustments whilst Rickard attracted the attention of the other vehicle commanders, pulling them all in towards the command vehicle.
“They’ve stopped to examine that dog. They seem terrified that it’s a mine or something.”
Akinfeev’s opinion of these toy soldiers could sink no lower.
Another of the cigarettes was lubricating his throat with sweet smoke as he watched the useless Amerikanski go about their business.
“Seems they’ve decided that the dog is no threat, Comrades.”
His men laughed dutifully.
His smile turned to a stoney face as he watched further.
“Comrade Serzhant, what do you see?”
Urusov, stretched out on the rickety floor above his Captain’s head, whispered back.
“I think they’ve seen the vehicle, Comrade Kapitan. One of them has a sniper scope; he’s looking now, as well as the officer.”
Both men saw the Americans laugh and relax.
“If the Amerikanski were all like these, we’d be in Paris by now!”
His amusement was short-lived, as something changed in the group he was observing, men from each vehicle who had casually assembled, clearly now less than comfortable with what their officer was telling them.
However, he already considered these men to have demonstrated themselves as worthless, and his pride in his own unit did the rest.
The group broke up, moving urgently to their various stations, another warning sign that Akinfeev chose to ignore.
And then things changed very quickly.
The Greyhound moved in behind a low wall further up the Rue Principale, clearly taking up a position of overwatch, backed up by the Horch and its crew. Parking their vehicle in a small depression, the four men set up two .30cals, one on either side of the armoured car, and piled some other useful kit close at hand, just in case.
Hanebury and the Dodge crashed off to the east and dropped down into the depression, masking themselves from anyone in the copse.
To the east, Stradley’s firebase was established and the rest of his squad was moving as fast as they could to get north of the copse unseen.
“Trouble. The armoured car’s moved to cover us, with one vehicle in support, and the other two vehicles have gone. Moving round to our left I should say.”
Starshy Serzhant Vetochkin stood and waited for his orders.
“Take two of the panzerfaust, the 34, and three men. Set up on the edge of the trees to our left here. I don’t want anything coming up out of the low ground there and into our flank. Clear, Comrade Starshy Serzhant?”
“Yes, Comrade Kapitan.”
Clicking his fingers at the nearest three men, Vetochkin assigned the weapons and led his small group away.
“Comrade Yefreytor.”
Radin crawled over to his commander’s side.
“Same as Comrade Vetochkin. Take three men, two of the panzerfaust and the DP. Cover the north side of the copse. Clear?”
“Clear, Comrade Kapitan.”
The group were quickly on their way.
“What’s the armoured car doing?”
Sergeant Urusov leant over, looking straight down at his Captain’s face.
“Holding steady, Comrade Kapitan. They’ve set up machine-guns either side of it. These Amerikanski seem to know what they’re doing.”