‘The bastards are up to something.’
“Get me Marshal Vasilevsky!”
Author’s note - Following the disappearance of Marshal Konev, assumed killed in the bombing attack on Nordhausen, Vassilevsky had been immediately selected as commander in chief of the Red Banner Forces of Soviet Europe, handing over command of the increasingly impotent Eastern Forces to his deputy.
Many saw Vassilevsky’s appointment as an incredible snub to Zhukov.
Stalin undoubtedly put Vasilevsky in place as he considered the man competent, yet malleable to pressure.
Marshal Zhukov’s personal diary makes it clear he saw the move as a good thing for the Red Army and Mother Russia, his personal negative feelings about Konev being reasonably well known in higher circles.
Zhukov’s relationship with the new commander was very good, both viewing the other as an excellent field commander and adept strategist.
Once Zhukov returned to work, their cordial professional relationship would be tested over the coming months but would, undoubtedly, make a positive impact on Red Army performance during their period of command.
Chapter 142 – THE SIXTH
I no more believe in God, the Devil, or Heaven than I do in mermaids and fairies. However, Hell‘s another matter. It exists; it’s a very real place. I know ‘cause I’ve been there.
The young and enthusiastic war correspondent, only recently arrived in France, hopped from foot to foot in excitement, watching the USAAF P-51s rise into the air.
Three squadrons, one after the other, a total of sixty-three aircraft, took a long time to get airborne, but the spectacle engrossed the reporter for its full duration.
“How long before they’re back, Hank?”
The MP Corporal assigned to ‘keep the goddamn limey reporter outta the goddamn way’ actually had no idea but plumped for two hours.
“Time to get a cup of tea then.”
The two sauntered off to the mess hut where the reporter’s hunt for tea proved fruitless, and coffee became a substitute.
Rapidly consuming a plate of eggs, fried potato, and fried ham, he set up his typewriter and set to work on his first report ‘from the front’.
Dear Reader,
Today is the first day of the grand new offensive, aimed at kicking the Communist hordes back to whence they came, something we have all been waiting for ever since their dastardly betrayal last August.
You will all be thrilled to learn that our soldiers, airmen, and sailors are all keen to press on with the job, and to carry the fight back to the enemy, and they speak of nothing but victory and getting the job done.
At the time of writing, I am sat waiting for a group of young Americans to return from their first combat of the day, the whole three squadrons having leapt into the crisp morning air and sped off to do battle with the enemy, before returning home to prepare for another joust later in the day.
Around me, the airfield is a hive of activity, even though there are few aircraft left to tend. The ground crews are taking no rest, preparing the fuel, bombs, and bullets to be loaded on the returned aircraft, to quickly make them ready for the next show.
I spoke to an experienced Captain, a leader of men, with many kills under his belt already.
He spoke of his pride in his boys and the way they had handled everything that this war had thrown their way.
A quiet, unassuming man, his pilots obviously worship him. I can only call him Jim, but many of you will have read his name during the previous unpleasantness.
Jim is a man of few words, but before he climbed into the gleaming aircraft, he asked me to send his love and best wishes to his family back home, especially his wife Martha, and his two sons, James and Richard.
His steed is a modern, state of the art fighter, and he has promised me a closer look once A-GQ returns.
How I envy him and his men the freedom of the skies and the wondrous experience that must be the carefree nature of flying.
How wonderful it must be to return from lashing the enemy, and to exchange yarns on the day’s events.
I will share some of those stories with you in due course, but, for now, you all back home can rest assured that our finest are doing their best and that it is only a matter of time.
The aircraft are returning and excited ground crews celebrate when they recognize their own man and machine taxiing into the bays where each aircraft is worked on.
Two fire engines almost seem to twitch nervously on the perimeter road, although all the aircraft so far landed seem to have had an easy ride and to be without any marks of distress.
And yet, as I type, one aircraft comes into view, its presence marked more firmly by the smoke it trails behind it.
The damaged fighter bumps down hard, both fire engines in hot pursuit, keen to get to grips with any fire that might endanger man and machine.
The aircraft slips off the runway onto the marshy ground and is brought to a swift stop by the cloying grip of the mud that surrounds this base.
The firemen are all over the aircraft and the pilot is removed. He is taken to the arrived ambulance to be whisked away to the doctor for a check-up
Beside me, Jack, a USAAF cook, compares numbers with his pal, Ray.
The numbers do not tally and it appears that some aircraft have not returned.
That is not unusual, for even though the Allies have mastery of the air, losses are inevitable and, sadly, there is occasionally loss of life, which can affect those in a tight-knit Squadron such as this.
Let us hope that our brave fliers have landed elsewhere or managed to take to a parachute.
Now I must away, in order to share in the sense of fun that must accompany these men returning from their labours against the foe. I shall report back with some of their stories of missions accomplished and great deeds performed.
[Author’s note – On the 26th March, 354th Fighter Group flew 178 sorties out of the airbase at Toul-Rosières, France. The group lost a total of seventeen aircraft that day, and twelve pilots were killed over their targets, with two severely injured, including the pilot whose landing was watched by JTS, namely the 355th Fighter Regiment’s Captain James Z. Steele Jr, pilot of GQ-A. He had flown with the RAF Eagle Squadron in the Battle of Britain and was a highly experienced flier with eighteen and a half kills. After-combat reports all agreed that Steele’s aircraft was struck by ground fire as he led his section in a ground attack role on Soviet armoured and motorised forces at Imbsheim, Germany. He died in the ambulance, succumbing to his wounds.]
Dear Reader,
Unfortunately my time with the brave US air force pilots was cut short, so I never had the chance to look over AC-Q, or to hear the yarns of aerial combat as the pilots boasted of their successes.