1st Lt Fielding snorted in derision.
“Well, anyone who has read the reports knows the Soviet track gauge is different, so that’s a non-starter.”
Ramsey inclined his head and, yet again, was beaten to it by Bluebear, who went for the less sensitive option.
“The German had them, so maybe the Russian has the German one’s, Lieutenant.”
He spoke the words in his monotone way, and not as a question.
Fielding ceded the point with his silence.
“So, we can stop the trains by smashing up the rails some, Major, but the Commies will repair the track quick enough, and in this weather, a rapid advance with them could do us no end of hurt.”
Ramsey’s mind hit upon a solution.
He gathered the assembly close around the map he held, fingering a specific point on the east bank.
“This here looks like an underpass of some sort? Anyone seen it at all?”
No takers.
Ramsey continued.
“If it is, then you have to be able to drop it with what you have available. An underpass won’t be so easy for the Soviets to repair.”
There was a general nod of agreement, but most noticeably, not from Fielding.
“There is an issue for you, Lieutenant?”
“You betchyer goddamn ass there’s a fucking issue, Major.”
Robertson grimaced at the remark, but held his peace.
“You want my boys to wander over onto the commie side of the river and lay a load of charges? Sure sounds like a suicide mission to me, Sir.”
“If you were alone, then possibly so, Lieutenant. However, you won’t be.”
Making his mind up, Ramsey snapped into action.
“Can you carry the explosives with just your unit, Lieutenant?”
“I guess so, Sir,” replied Fielding, tentatively, in case the Limey had not got the message.
“I will move my lads over the water, to here,” his finger picked out a small raised area to the south of the supposed underpass.
He drew Hässler and Bluebear in tighter.
“This railway embankment is a natural divide for us, so you will take the left flank.”
They nodded.
“I want your boys to position here,” he indicated a wooded area diametrically opposite the intended Black Watch position.
“How long do you think you’ll need to drop the underpass, Lieutenant?”
Fielding grabbed his chin in thought, happier now he knew that others were exposing themselves too.
“Based upon what I’ve seen of these things before, I reckon half an hour at the rush, forty minutes to be comfy, Major.”
Others may have dithered, but not Ramsey, and the move was set in motion immediately.
“Right then, gentlemen. Get your troops up and moving immediately. Robertson, you take the first platoon over and secure the other side straight away. We’ll cross on your signal. Clear?”
It was.
“Lieutenant, as soon as the covering force has moved forward, bring your men and equipment over, come up whichever side, but get cracking on that underpass. Clear?”
“Will do, Major.”
The Captain commanding the recently arrived Gordons was last of all.
“Grayson, your men will filter into the positions we vacate as soon as we move off. Be careful who you fire at. We may not have time for the niceties when we return. Make sure your lads are clear on that point.”
“Sah.”
Addressing the whole group, Ramsey concluded his brief.
“We’ll stay, no retreat, as long as the engineers have a job to do. Once their job is done, we’ll retire to a safe distance, on the east bank, for detonation. I assume the end of the bridge will be a suitable firing point, Lieutenant?”
Fielding cast a quick eye at the map scale and nodded.
“Once successful, we’ll fall back over the river, you 116th lads first, my men last. There are no further orders. Any questions?”
It was simple enough in concept, but had all the makings of a hard battle ahead.
“RSM, as soon as you’re ready. We will work off the RSM for our timings. Up and at ’em, Gentlemen.”
Deniken had no need of any relay from Yarishlov, Obinin’s voice carried very clearly over the radio net.
Obinin had just received a verbal lashing from those above, and, as usual, the threats cascaded downwards.
“Get your men moving now or you’ll be counting trees, Polkovnik. Now!”
Yarishlov smiled half-heartedly to himself, recalling a conversation not so long ago, when the same officer had feted him as a hero.
‘The line between success and failure is thin indeed.’
“Moving now, Comrade General. Out.”
Deniken received a whispered verbal report from one of his officers and nodded in response, dismissing the man with a pat on the back.
“Bad, Comrade Deniken?”
“It could’ve been much worse, but I’ve lost many good men, Comrade Yarishlov.”
“It’s up to us to make sure our men haven’t died uselessly, so we’ll move forward immediately, as the General demands.”
Deniken’s map was to hand, so the two pored quickly over the terrain they were about to traverse.
Yarsihlov spoke with conviction.
“Your platoons that crossed the river downstream; they can advance along the river to here?”
Deniken nodded his agreement.
“Good,” and quickly moving across the map, Yarishlov found Route 48.
“We have a single road, and I will use it wisely. Get some of your men on board my tanks, and we will drive like hell into their rear, here.”
He indicated the west end of the rail bridge position.
Pressing his finger against the area to the west and south-west, Yarishlov was less forceful.
“I have ordered most of the remaining forces of the 128th Tanks and 31st Guards Infantry up to here, providing us with a secure base, and sparing them any more suffering for now.”
He indicated the area to the west of the Wagenfelder Bridge.
“That will release my first battalion and SMG Company to probe westwards here, where your men ran into that little hornet’s nest.”
He referred to the Dreeke road positions, recently stiffened by the 1st Composite Battalion, 116th Infantry.
As if to reinforce his next point, sounds of sawing and hammering reached both men’s ears.
“Our comrades from the 77th are working to make good the damage to this bridge, but I intend to take as many of them with us, in case the Amerikanski damage our prime objective.”
Deniken’s eyes were drawn to the map, despite his full knowledge of what the tank colonel was pointing at.
Yarishlov continued.
“Our comrades of the 3rd Guards Mechanised Corps and 22nd Guards Rifle Corps are already preparing to move up, the two armoured trains will do so, the moment we report contact to the rear of the Allied positions, and that the track is clear.”
Yarishlov folded his map quickly, finishing the brief in a conspiratorial tone.
“At the same time, we will order our surprise package forward, against the eastern end of the bridge.”
Deniken understood, and made a final notation on his pad.
“Comrade PodPolkovnik.”
Yarishlov extended his hand.
“Comrade Polkovnik.”
The two shook hands and went their separate ways.
Before the Second World War, Soesterberg had been a military airfield for the Dutch Air Force. During their time as residence, the Luftwaffe had created a much larger facility, but it was still very tight for the squadrons from all arms of the RAF that found themselves shoehorned in, as the Soviets advanced, and airfields were lost.