Alf laughed and thumped Johnny on the back.
“Come on then. Let’s show them.”
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
Rushton raised his head again. He was behind a large stone water trough. It was hundreds of years old, used by generations of traders to water their animals. He was received with another burst of bullets from the MG42’s. Rushton was totally pinned down. Tosh Wilkes was the closest man to him, he was pinned down too, behind a Volkswagen Kubel. Tosh was guessing it belonged to an officer because of the command pennants hanging limply from the front wings. Remarkably not one shot had been fired at Tosh. The gunners obviously not wanting to hit their commandants car. More Germans were coming down the stairs, an officer at their head. He ordered that the alarms be switched off. An eerie silence fell over the square inside the Medina.
“I am Leutnantoberst Von Kessel. You are surrounded. Throw down your weapons.”
Rushton slowly raised his head. The machine gunner on the left panicked and fired. Von Kessel yanked on his arms making the bullets spatter the wall behind the L.R.D.G commander. Angrily he pulled out his Luger and pointed it at the machine gunner’s temple who gave out a surprised yelp.
“The next man who shoots I shoot!” he bellowed.
Tosh was able to wriggle into a position of where he could see Von Kessel between the wheels of the Kubel. He glanced across at Rushton’s position and was now able to see Rushton’s face. Rushton was staring back. He said something but Tosh couldn’t hear him as Von Kessel continued. If he could get these men to surrender.
“You may as well give yourselves up. There is no escape, no where to run to. My men won’t shoot if you show yourselves right now. You have my guarantee.”
Tosh managed to slowly unhook the scoped Enfield and bring it up to his side.
“Give yourselves up. There is nothing to fear. We soldiers of the Fatherland, of the third reich. We welcome our friends, the Americans, the British. Surrender yourselves now. There is nothing to fear from us. I give you, the commander, whoever you are to the count of ten to throw down your weapons and give yourselves up. After that my men will be ordered to shoot.”
Rushton had heard the words and he didn’t believe them. He knew that Doyle and the rest of his men wouldn’t believe them either. Doyle was still watching Rushton. Rushton shook his head. There would be no surrender. Von Kessel was counting out loud, for effect. He knew a ten count wouldn’t be enough.
“One….Two….Three….” he paused to take his hat off to wipe his forehead with his handkerchief.
Doyle raised the rifle and fired.
The top of von Kessel’s head disappeared. A look of surprise spread across his face. He staggered forward a couple of steps and pitched forward flat on his face. His blood pumped out thickly. The Germans, horrified and now leaderless began firing at everything and everyone. Doyle sighted again. His second shot took the left machine gunner cleanly in the temple. His head was thrown back and this pulled the MG42 up. His finger was still on the trigger and the bullets ricocheted off the far wall. He collapsed to the ground pulling the gun down on top of him. The hot barrel sizzling. The other machine gunner had seen where the single shot had come from and he swung his gun around and sent a wicked burst at the Kubel. Doyle lay still as the bullets ripped up the ground around him. The gunner waited anxiously for his gun to cool before he could continue firing at his invisible enemy.
Doyle couldn’t see him from where he lay.
Now the British returned fire. Their Stens superior to the German Karbiner rifles. Rushton was suddenly aware of more Germans arriving through a side gateway and he rolled into position and sent a burst from his Sten at them. He killed the first two easily as they rushed headlong through the gate and into the courtyard. Koenig right behind them was able to throw himself against the wall in the nick of time. He peered around the wall. Rushton fired at him but at this distance Koenig was able to move back out of the way. Rushton pulled the clip out of the side of his Sten and inserted a new magazine. He kept the gun trained on the gate. More bullets hit the Kubel puncturing it’s bodywork, ripping up the bonnet. Doyle was splashed in the face by black oil. He looked under the vehicle and could see engine oil leaking onto the road. Rushton heard a tell tale clink of metal on stone, two of them and he knew without seeing that they were Stiel hand grenades. He jumped to his feet and ran for Doyle as they exploded.
“You all right Sir?”
“Yes. Well done for taking that Colonel out.”
“I couldn’t resist it Sir. The arrogant bastard was stood there asking for it.”
Rushton and Doyle stood and fired at the gate where Koenig’s men were. They stopped and kept still, waiting. They saw Koenig look around the corner.
“It’s another officer,” Doyle said.
“High ranking judging by his hat.”
Koenig checked again and sent his men through the gate. Rushton and Doyle sent hand grenades at them. The grenades exploded and the air was filled with the screams of dying and injured men. Rushton’s men jumped up and rushed forward at the much slower firing Germans. One man sent a burst from his Sten into a German’s chest at point blank range, literally shredding the soldier’s chest. Another S.A.S. man pulled his trigger to just a click. His gun had jammed. Without hesitation he swung the barrel and floored his enemy. He stomped on the German breaking his neck with a sharp crack. Another found himself grappling with a German, both men with hands on the German’s rifle. The S.A.S. man was stronger and he forced the German down onto his back and pushed down with the rifle across the German’s throat until the German stopped kicking and breathing. The Englishman turned the gun around and smashed the butt into his enemies skull just to make sure.
On they surged, rushing for the steps now. The Kubel, which had been smoking, now exploded so violently it shook the very walls of the Medina. Burning fuel sprayed the air. Some of it landing on the canvas tops of the trucks parked nearby. These quickly began to burn. Soon they were an inferno.
Rushton and Doyle sprinted across the courtyard. Koenig saw them go. He fired his pistol at them, missing completely.
One of Rushtons men ran in front of his Major and was brought down by the remaining MG42 gunner. His death gave Rushton and Doyle the vital seconds to turn and kill the German with their Stens. Doyle made it to the MG42 and got behind it to use it. Koenig sent more of his men through the gate and Doyle mowed them down. They fell like skittles at a bowling alley. No more came. Doyle pulled a pin on a grenade and threw it through the gateway. It landed at Koenig’s feet. Koenig looked down at the knobbly thing and facing death, in the supreme moment of his life, he did what he thought was necessary, the only thing he thought he had left.
He turned and fled.
“Cowardly bastard,” Doyle said “Why doesn’t he stand and fight.”
Rushton nodded to two of his men.
“Get him!”
They grinned excitedly and dashed off. The thought of bagging a Colonel an opportunity too good to miss.
Doyle made it to the bottom of the steps first and bounded up them two at a time, only stopping to fire from the hip at Germans coming down the stairs. Rushton came up after him, much slower, allowing his other men to overtake him on the ancient stone steps. Others of his group still below in a stalemate with well hidden Germans, neither side taking casualties at the minute. Rushton pulled a pin on a grenade and threw it. It landed behind three unsuspecting German’s and exploded, ripping into their backs. As they fell his men rushed their position and finished them off. Now the S.A.S. had control of the courtyard. The area was littered with dead bodies and burning vehicles.