The reports had been filtering through to the command centre of ‘Normandie’, some routine, some not, and yet more providing vital ticks on the battle plan called ‘Thermopylae’.
Lavalle silently enjoyed his coffee.
It was not yet time.
The sleep had only been brief, and Blagoslavov felt groggy. He pulled his tunic on, doing up the buttons, the aches and pains of such simple tasks making him feel old before his time.
Once he was presentable, he permitted the regimental clerk to bring in the papers for his signature.
Coffee was presented to him as he worked, and that also helped to bring him more into a land of consciousness.
The paperwork complete, Blagoslavov decided to visit his positions facing the Vosges, just to make sure there was no possibility of his command catching a cold.
Plus, as he had just learned, two full companies of engineers from the 12th Engineer-Sapper Brigade had been assigned to sweep the entrances of the passes under his responsibility.
Climbing gingerly out of the Gaz 4x4 he had scrounged for his command vehicle, Blagoslavov took in the sights.
Some of his T-34’s and IS-II’s were in hull-down positions, not easily spotted, even from his perspective.
Others were even harder to spot, the only betraying factor being a gun barrel here, a small plume of engine exhaust there.
He made his way over to an engineer officer. The man was using an oil drum as his work desk, recording details of his engineer’s surveys.
He was startled by the appearance of the tank unit’s commanding officer, springing to attention and dropping his pencils in the same rapid movement.
“No ceremony here, Comrade Kapitan. Blagoslavov, 110th Guards Tanks. How is your progress?”
“Comrade PodPolkovnik, Kapitan Esher, 12th Sapper Brigade. We are mapping the enemy minefields now. I have two platoons already working,” he turned the map to share the information, “On the Altenburg road here. The main road is heavily mined; very nasty.”
“Nasty, Comrade Kapitan?”
“Yes Sir. They have booby-trapped mines, placing grenades under them, linking chains of them, mixing types.”
Clearly, the Engineer officer was not content.
“There are mine types there that my men haven’t seen before. It’s all very nasty, Comrade PodPolkovnik.”
Blagoslavov was certainly glad that his normal enemy was a large lump of self-propelled metal, and did not envy the engineer his problems.
“Are you in contact with your unit at Eichoffen, Comrade Kapitan?”
“Yes, Comrade. It is the same for them. They have lost three men on the booby traps already.”
A muddy Lieutenant arrived and saluted both officers casually, his mind clearly on other matters.
“So what have you established, Georgi?”
Junior Lieutenant Georgi Harazan spread his own map out, next to his commanders.
“Very strange, Comrade Kapitan. As you can see, the enemy has sown everything up tight. Lots of problems throughout, until you come to here.”
Blagoslavov leant forward to see what the problem was.
‘Rue D’Altenberg?’
“There are no problems here, Comrade Kapitan.”
“None?”
“That road is open, and there is a free zone at least six metres either side of the roadway, Comrade Kapitan.”
Esher and Blagoslavov exchanged knowing looks.
The tank officer took up the running.
“Comrade Mladshy Leytenant. Are you positive that this road has been left clear by the enemy?”
“Yes Sir, positive. There are no mines, devices, nothing.”
Esher and Blagoslavov spoke at the same time.
“Job tvoyu mat!”
“Mudaks!”
The young Lieutenant was surprised at the reaction his news provoked.
“Get your men ready, Comrade Kapitan. We’ll stop them here,” he tapped the Engineer’s map, “Or there’ll be hell for us all!”
The tank officer ran to his command vehicle and it raced away, the senior officer already shouting into the radio set.
Harazan was confused.
A clipped order brought the radio into life, the Captain issuing brief instructions to his platoon commanders.
Esher had his binoculars out as he spoke, quickly sweeping the Vosges, seeing threat in every shadow.
“Comrade Kapitan. What’s happening?”
The radio dispensed with, Esher spared the junior man a moment.
“Georgi Illiych, if the enemy’s left a gap, it’s not by accident.”
The look on Harazan’s face showed his failure to comprehend the problem.
“The gap is there for a reason, and that can only mean something very bad.”
Now the young officer understood.
“Get back to your men and organise them with the infantry for now. If you can, get some of the lifted mines down on that route. Stay on the net, Comrade.”
The Lieutenant’s reply went unheard.
At the same time as Esher had explained to the confused young man, the final piece of the jigsaw puzzle slotted into place in the ‘Normandie’ headquarters.
Lavalle took a moment’s pause before issuing the expected order to the waiting signallers.
“All units, Spartan, repeat Spartan.”
Unlike Blagoslavov, the Legion observers on the High Vosges above Barr had noted precisely where the tanks had secreted themselves, and the information had already been passed to the waiting artillery, and other units.
On receipt of the codeword ‘Spartan’, Operation Thermopylae swung into action, and the destruction of the 19th Army commenced.
‘Thermopylae’ was a thing of simple beauty, enabled by the Soviet attempt to control Knocke, and the GRU’s belief in his continued support.
That condemned 19th Army to drive on a small frontage into a funnel, one side lined by the Rhine and her tributaries, the other by the imposing Vosges.
Knocke’s information tailored perfectly with Soviet expectations, or so it seemed.
The valleys would be mined, and that proved to be the case.
The valleys would be defended by infantry and anti-tank guns with artillery support, which Soviet patrolling had confirmed.
The Legion units would fall back in front of 19th Army, all the way to Colmar, and had done so at first, the blip at Ebersheim designed to bunch the Soviet formations up and ensure that sufficient time was available to prepare the welcome south of Selestat.
And then, it all went wrong for 19th Army.
Mortars flayed the Soviet infantry in the woods, north of Guémar, high explosive filling the air with metal fragments and wood splinters, as airbursts cut down scores of men.
Tanks waiting on Route 1083 found themselves under attack from special tank-hunting teams. Men from ‘Alma’ and Kommando Alsace, experienced with panzerfausts and anti-tank mine, caused huge casualties amongst the waiting 108th Guards Tank Regiment.
Artillery, targeted by observers that had sat patiently on the hill tops, sought out, and neutralised, many of the defensive positions that had been set up to protect the Vosges valleys.
Small groups of volunteers from the ‘Lorraine’ and ‘Aquitaine’ Command Groups had remained within Selestat and other places on the main road network, emerging on receipt of the codeword, causing havoc amongst the units that were bunched up on the plain.