Bedell-Smith nodded his understanding.
“Yes, we know. They’ve been badly hit and are out of the line reforming.”
“No, Sir. You don’t understand. I mean the Polish Army.”
Eisenhower caught on immediately.
“You mean the Polish Army, in Poland.”
“Yes, Sir. I have a Polish officer in protective custody outside. If I may have him shown in?”
A nod was enough, and Rossiter moved quickly.
Eisenhower flipped a quick look at the Marine’s holster. It was empty, as was the holster of the US officer accompanying the Pole.
Standing orders had been changed since the attack on Patton, and any visitor not from the parent unit, regardless of rank or status, had their weapons secured by the guard detail on arrival.
The Polish Cavalry officer, complete with the trademark Rogatywka pointed cap, snapped to attention and saluted.
‘Something about the Poles. Always so damn smart.’
Rossiter introduced the newcomer.
“PodPulkownik Zajac, General Eisenhower.”
The Pole became even more rigid at the mention of his name.
The Marine officer continued.
“Lieutenant Colonel Zajac is from the headquarters of the First Polish Army, and here at the direction of the Army Commander, General Berling…”
‘Where is this going?’
“…And with the agreement and knowledge of General Świerczewski, commander of the 2nd Polish Army.”
‘OK, impeccable credentials, now get to the point.’
The Marine took a deep breath.
“Sir, the Polish Army is ready to fight on our side.”
‘Thank you God!’
“Tell me more, Sam.”
“Sir, the Colonel is here to make this offer to you, and to take back your reply to his Commanders.”
Eisenhower noted the faint spread of a smile on Bedell-Smith’s face. He resisted joining him.
“Your view, Sam?”
“Kosher, Sir. One hundred percent. Our contacts have implied an increased feeling of rebellion amongst the Polish Army. I believe this is a genuine offer, but,” he conceded, “Both us and the Brits will quietly knock on some doors and learn more.”
‘You said to your people ‘ tonight, right now’, didn’t you? So, why not?’
Eisenhower extended his right hand, taking the Pole’s hand in a firm grip.
“We will welcome you with open arms, Colonel, when the time is right,” Lassiter translated, “You will understand that we must check some things first.”
The Pole nodded in acceptance, Lassiter’s swift translation no less than had been anticipated.
“When you return to your Commander, you can give him my personal assurance that, if his offer is genuine, and his forces wish to fight, en masse, against the Soviet Union, then the offer will be accepted, and we will fight them together, as full military allies.”
Eisenhower felt that would not be an issue for his political masters, as the Poles were already de facto Allies. In any case, he would sell them on it, if there was a problem.
“Thank you Sam, now will you and Colonel Zajac get cleaned up and rested. We will talk further about this in the morning.”
Both men saluted and went in search of a hot shower and a comfortable bed.
The American had been away in Ireland de-briefing a mission, the Pole had been tossed about on the Baltic, before finally getting an aircraft from Denmark to Versailles.
As he watched the two men disappear, his mind immediately flagged an issue.
“Walter, scrub that order about Norway. We prepare planning for McCreery’s operation as soon as is practicable. This new development, if it is ‘kosher’, presents us with a massive opportunity.””
Bedell-Smith nodded, and went to turn away.
“Plus,” he turned back and refocused on his Commander, “Get Sir Roger Dalziel over here, as quickly as possible.”
There was obviously more.
“Also, I need Admiral Somerville here today, straight away.”
The CoS immediately understood where the energized Eisenhower was coming from, and smiled.
The Allies were going to hit back in a big and unexpected way.
Suddenly Eisenhower found himself alone.
He relaxed into one of the comfortable chairs and savoured his latest cigarette, alternating tobacco and drink, enjoying some of the newly arrived coffee.
The front line in Europe drew his main attention, working his mind to the limit.
However, there was a part of him, the rarely surfaced gambler and adventurer part, which snuck an occasional look at Denmark and the Baltic Sea to the east, naturally drawing his eye further to the Northern Coast of Germany and, beyond it, Poland.
Chapter 90 – THE RAIDS
A thing of orchestrated hell – a terrible symphony of light and flame.
Konev was a man on a mission.
His orders were clear.
2nd Red Banner Central European Front was to bypass the Ruhr to the south and strike up into Eastern Holland to isolate the enemy forces in a pocket from Dortmund to Dusseldorf, whilst 1st Baltic, similarly reinforced, pushed to the south-west, intending to meet up with 2nd Red Banner somewhere on the Rhine.
However, Konev also sensed that Zhukov was deliberately hamstringing him, keeping him almost confined, in favour of 3rd Red Banner to the south, and that damned Armenian in 1st Baltic.
Both of those commanders had unlimited powers to advance, whereas he, and only he, was to remain this side of the Rhine and concentrate on the encirclement of the Ruhr.
Well, he would see just how far he could stretch his orders. Success always brought with it understanding for those who had exceeded their instructions, and he simply couldn’t ignore the possibility that the map threw up at him.
His Chief of Staff understood the bald Marshal, or more importantly, understood the ambition that drove him.
It was no surprise that the Marshal started to look at things beyond the orders from Zhukov, and the CoS was so unsurprised that he didn’t query the procedure, merely recorded Konev’s instructions for translating into movement orders as soon as possible.
Working with a set of dividers, looking at distances and travel times, logistics and the terrain, Konev quietly made his plan.
Satisfied with its feasibility, he threw the dividers down and looked up at Petrov, stood with pad at the ready for his commanders orders.
“Good. Now then, we will proceed with the orders as received. Our forces will focus on this area,” he indicated the ground behind the Ruhr, “But we must also obey our orders, specifically the section about ensuring we have secure flanks.”
He drew his Chief of Staff into the conspiracy with an inviting gesture.
Bending over the map, Petrov continued to make his notes.
“We will send the 5th Guards and 6th Guards Tank Armies this way. I want to secure these bridges on our flanks, just to make sure there is no threat of a counter-attack on our left flank.”
Two of the bridges sat on main routes into Holland, the first at Maasbracht, the second to the south at Stein.
The final bridge was in the middle, a small village called Berg an der Maas, three kilometres behind Sittard, home of the 101st US Airborne Division.
Konev was going for the Maas and intended to cross it in force, regardless of the restraint Zhukov had placed upon him.