Hubert Schiffer put the binoculars back into the car through the driver’s open window and was about to open the door and climb back in when…Crack. Crack.
Mauer, who was sitting in the passenger seat, threw the door open. “Bloody hell, what was that?” He went to get out.
Schiffer pulled the driver’s door open, moved the binoculars to the dashboard, and dropped into his seat. “Get back in, Nicklas!” he called urgently. “It’s an escape. Sounds like it came from the south.”
His colleague slammed his door shut and Schiffer revved the engine. The front wheels spun as he accelerated along the patrol road towards the sound of the gunfire. Crack. Crack.
“I think you could be right, Hubert.” Mauer pulled out his service pistol, released the magazine, checked the rounds and slotted it back in with a click. Then, pulling back on the working parts, it loaded one of the eight 9mm rounds into the breech.
Schiffer looked across at his partner. “You won’t need that. They don’t come across the border.”
“Even after an escapee?”
“No. I’ve seen a couple and the Grenzer always stay over on their side.”
“But doesn’t part of the land on this side of the fence belong to the DDR?”
“I know.”
“What’s that?” Mauer pointed at a pair of headlights running parallel to them, but slowly gaining ground.
Schiffer groaned. “Oh God, that doesn’t look good.”
Zip, zip. Two further bullets zipped above the heads of the young couple, followed by two cracks from the assault rifles behind them. Keifer supported Adali’s body as best he could while he undid the straps of the overboot. The hook trapping her foot needed to be released. She shifted slightly and whimpered as the first buckle was released. As the last buckle was detached, her boot now free of its grip, she crashed to the ground in a heap, a long wail of pain escaping her lips. Keifer knew they had to move. Although they were on the far side of the fence, they still had at least forty or fity metres to the actual FRG border.
“Come on, Addi, we have to move.”
Her eyes were full of tears, the pain of her shattered ankle imprinted on her face. “I can’t, it’s so painful.”
“Fifty metres, Addi, fifty metres. That’s all.”
“I can’t…”
He pushed his hands beneath her armpits and heaved her up, turning her slightly so he could position his shoulder beneath her arm and pull it around his neck. She screamed again as her fractured ankle dragged along the ground. He hoisted her higher up onto his shoulder and placed his left hand around her waist, her right arm around his neck, supporting as much of her weight as he could. He shuffled them both forward and she hopped on one foot as best she could, although her ankle was swelling rapidly as she groaned with pain every time her ankle was jolted. They had gone no more than twenty metres when they were both suddenly dazzled by headlights.
“There they are!” called Baer. He slammed on the brakes and the Jeep slid to a halt on the stony ground. All four were out in seconds, rifles at the ready.
“Halten sie, halten sie! Grenztruppen der DDR. Halten sie!” the Grenzer leutnant bellowed.
Schiffer swerved the police car left. The binoculars slid along the dashboard, hit the other end and clattered to the floor, settling in the passenger footwell by Mauer’s feet. “Get ready,” he shouted, too loudly. The adrenalin was pumping. Their car headlights picked out the two East Germans. One seemed to be supporting the other as they stumbled south attempting to put some distance between themselves and the DDR Jeep. Both policemen got out of the car, engine still running, doors left ajar, headlights behind them projecting their shadows ahead as they strode forward, guns at the ready, to intercept the East German border guards who were now walking quickly towards the young couple.
Schiffer challenged the Grenzer, ordering them to halt. His pistol was drawn, held in both hands, pointing towards the uniformed men who were now no more than fifteen metres away. His knees slightly bent, arms held out in front of him, steadying his breathing, locking his body into position, he was ready to fire. Sensing his partner Mauer to his left, he challenged them again. He could see the escapees out of the corner of his right eye, lit up by the DDR Jeep. He challenged them yet again.
Crack, crack…Crack, crack.
Schiffer looked in the direction of the young couple, and saw the taller of the two slump forward.
Crack…crack.
The one being supported jerked twice then fell forward. Two further shots and it was all over.
Schiffer screamed at them; fired two shots over the guards’ heads. When he saw Mauer start to move forward shouting obscenities, waving his pistol about in front of him, he quickly moved in his direction to restrain him as the GDR Jeep pulled forward to recover the bodies.
He grabbed his partner, holding him back, knowing it was all too late for the young couple. “Bastards, bastards, bastards,” screamed Mauer.
Chapter 14
There is an alarming curtain of silence from the Western European and American press as the biggest Soviet military exercise since World War Two is conducted close to the Inner German Border. Even the Federal Republic of Germany seems silent as these threatening Soviet military manoeuvres are carried out right on their doorstep. Exercise Hammer 84, a practice assault on NATO and the West, an attack that is considered as a defensive measure against a potential threat from the so-called belligerent West Germany.
Business as usual claim the Bonn defence ministry who clearly have no concerns over twenty Soviet divisions playing war games on their doorstep, stating that they are merely staff-based war games. Even senior NATO commanders are playing it down, see no Russians, hear no Russians. Just look at recent history. Fall Gelb, the Blitzkrieg attack on France and the low-countries by over a million Wehrmacht troops in 1940, followed by Operation Barbarossa, the massive assault on the Soviet Union that took the entire world by surprise. Should we be worried?
Pushkin lifted the camouflage netting that had been spread over and around the T80BK, the command tank of the 2nd Battalion of the 62nd Guards Tank Regiment. Slender logs, usually carried on the back of the tank, had been used as props to keep the netting off the bulk of the tank, ensuring the crew had the freedom to move around and also disguising its shape. They were part of a much bigger force: 10 Guards Tank Division of 3 Shock Army. The regiment had moved into position the previous night and, after a few minor reshuffles to accommodate the full regiment of over ninety tanks, all they could do now was wait for further orders from regimental or divisional command. The unit had completed some minor manoeuvres as part of Exercise Hammer 84, but had now been designated as an army reserve and were to refit, refuel and arm; then await further orders. What surprised Colonel Oleg Pushkin, commander of the 62nd GTR, the most was the fact they were being fully armed and to a war-level status. He had received stocks of APFSDS (Armour-Piercing Fin-Stabilised Discarding Sabot), HE (High Explosive) fragmentation, HEAT (High-Explosive Anti-Tank), and even two of the new Kobra 9M112M tank-launched missiles for each of his T80s. With thirty-eight main gun rounds, 300 rounds for the 12.7mm NSVT, anti-aircraft gun, and 1,250 rounds for the 7.62mm co-axial machine gun, they were in effect ready to go to battle. The dilemma that crossed Pushkin’s mind was: with whom? There had been some unrest in Poland: labour strikes and union demonstrations. He hoped his unit wasn’t going to be used to suppress the inhabitants of what was supposed to be an ally of the Soviet Union and a key member of the Warsaw Pact. More and more supplies had arrived for the regiment and the division under the cover of darkness. With plenty of fuel, ammunition and food for the men, they were capable of sustaining a number of days in battle, if required.