Crack of Doom (11 page)

"Axe you sorry?" Kahlmann asked curiously.

"Of course I'm not sorry!" They fell silent and looked at the snow-covered body dangling from the tree.

"Ah yes," said Kahlmann, "that reminds me—I must find a little tree. I mean, one isn't sentimental, but still it's part of Christmas. Have you anything planned?"

"I don't know," said Giesinger.

Kahlmann pulled his coat tighter round his stomach. "If you haven't anything special, come to me. Of course the Christmas Eve party is out this year."

"Yes, without the general. . . ."

The phone rang; it was Hartung reporting the arrival of the assault regiment's billeting officers. "I don't know what to do," he said. "It's really the district HQ's business."

"Well—they know about it, don't they?"

"Yes, but everything's topsy-turvy there."

"Then look after it yourself," said Giesinger impatiently. "If there's no room, make some." He hung up. "Nothing but trouble," he told Kahlmann.

"Don't worry, the new general will be here soon. Then you'll have an easier time."

But I don't want that, thought Giesinger, saying out loud: "It does wear one out."

"Yes, it's a big responsibility," nodded Kahlmann. "Well, good night."

After he had gone, Giesinger remained at the table, thinking. In the last few minutes he had remembered a lot of things he still had to do; yet it was already day, and he hadn't had a minute's sleep. He called his orderly and told him to get the window repaired. Then he asked Pfeiffer for reports from Schmitt. The last radio signal was two hours old, there had been nothing through since then. Giesinger told Pfeiffer to signal Schmitt that he should contact division every half hour. After that he studied the regiments' morning reports, and while doing so remembered Wieland's patrol. He phoned Wieland's adjutant, and heard that the patrol had not yet returned. "It'll be daylight in ten minutes," said the adjutant. "I'm afraid we'll have to write them off."

"Let me know when you hear anything definite," said Giesinger, and afterwards began anxiously re-examining the reports. Hopper had strong mortar fire on his positions, so had Wieland; only Scheper reported a quiet morning. He pushed the papers away with a sigh, got up, and went out into the passage. Here there was a hive of activity—orderlies running from door to door, officers with briefcases, a quartermaster lieutenant shouting at a sergeant. Giesinger went into what had been Colonel Schnetzler's office. Some typewriters were rattling away, three officers phoned simultaneously from different phones, others had their heads buried in papers and looked up briefly when Giesinger came in. He wound through the mass of tables to find the lieutenant who was acting for Schnetzler. The lieutenant stood up quickly on seeing him, and said: "I can't get the ammunition supplies here, sir. The road's blocked the other side of Roznava."

"Snow?"

"Yes. The district HQ is putting the civilian population on to clearing it."

"Tell them to get a move on. How does. ..." He stopped and looked round. A lieutenant was holding a telephone receiver: "Captain Hepp wants you."

Hepp's voice sounded very excited. "A new calamity. The railway command has just reported two deserters picked up by their guards."

"Our men?" asked Giesinger with interest.

"Apparently not. One escaped, they shot the other down."

"Can he still be questioned?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Inform Kahlmann. Any other news?"

"Colonel Hopper reports increasing artillery fire.

He thinks there must be at least twenty batteries ranging on his positions."

Giesinger frowned. "Has it been reported to corps?"

"Yes, it has. Also, Wieland's asking for the general again."

"He'll have to be patient a little longer. Stiller should be here any minute now."

Giesinger rang off. His nervousness had increased. After a few words with Schnetzler's deputy, he went back into the passage, where he detained a man who was just rushing past. "Tell the duty officer to take the dead man off the tree."

"Dead man off the tree, sir. Right, sir."

Giesinger reached the exit, where the sentries were standing. They saluted. He shouted at one of them who had a coat button open, tore the button off and threw it behind him in the snow. "Report to me after guard duty with your button sewn on."

A second lieutenant came running up the steps. Giesinger recognized him as the assistant adjutant of the artillery regiment. "What's the rush?"

"Lieutenant Scheuben sent me, sir—about the ammunition."

"I'm sorry—the roads are snowed up," said Giesinger. "Try the railhead at DobSina. Perhaps they can put two trucks on some train or other."

"We don't know where our vehicles have been held up.

"Behind Roznava apparently. Your supply column's there, isn't it?"

"That's an idea, sir."

"Go and see Lieutenant Pfeiffer and ask him to connect you with them."

Giesinger stood outside; the fresh air was doing him good, and he could feel his headache subsiding. It was already light on the street, and there was very little snow falling at present, but the sky was dense and more could be expected.

Suddenly he heard a peculiar sound. He looked quickly toward the sentries at the gate: they were gazing up at the sky. The sound continued. It sounded as if a distant freight train were rumbling over the rails; but this was no train, nor was it planes. He dashed up the steps, and saw doors burst open in the passage. Hepp's bulky figure emerged from one room; on the other side Pfeiffer appeared, saying breathlessly: "The barrage!"

Scarcely looking at him, Giesinger ran up to his room. As he reached it, he remembered something, and dashed back to Pfeiffer, who was talking excitedly to Hepp. "Where?" he asked.

"In Wieland and Hopper's sectors."

"Not Scheper's?"

"No, sir."

"How about Wieland's patrol?"

"Wieland has lost contact with his sixth company," Hepp interjected. "He doesn't know anything about them."

"Thanks." On reaching his room, Giesinger immediately phoned corps. As he waited for the connection, he watched his orderly putting new glass in the window.

"Where did you get
that
from?"

"Upstairs, sir. The civilians don't need any."

Giesinger nodded. In the room the artillery fire was hardly audible. Corps had now brought Kolmel to the phone. His voice sounded sleepy at first, but became wide awake when Giesinger gave him the reports. "Isn't General Stiller with you yet?"

"No, sir."

Giesinger heard Kolmel talking to someone; then he spoke back into the mouthpiece again. "He should have been there long ago. Look, have you a map, handy?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then send Flamingo to Durkov. In the meantime the general's bound to reach you."

Giesinger took the map and went over to Hepp, who had four other officers with him. "The assault regiment's to go to Durkov. What do you think of that?"

"Durkov!" Hepp looked at his map. "Here it is. Right between Wieland and Hopper." He took off his spectacles and rubbed his eyes. "In this snow the Russians would never try except on the road."

"I'm not so sure," Giesinger objected, then turned to Pfeiffer and asked if there was a line to Colonel Kreisel.

"Yes, sir, we've had one for five minutes now."

"Put me on to him."

Giesinger spoke to the commander of the assault regiment, and then turned to Lieutenant Hartung. "You'll go to Kreisel as liaison officer. The assault regiment is to dig in outside Durkov. . . . There's nothing more to be done at the moment," he told the others. "I'd just like to get the latest bulletins. ..." He phoned through first to the regimental commanders, then to the artillery commander and the anti-tank section—his face growing longer and longer. "Wieland has no more contact with the front," he told Pfeiffer.

Corps rang again. "No change," Giesinger answered Kolmel's anxious question, "Flamingo is on its way."

"And your reconnaissance unit?"

Giesinger was taken by surprise, but managed to keep his presence of mind. "I've sent it off," he lied.

"Then you've still got a battalion in reserve. You'll have to manage with that."

Giesinger hunted for words. He would have liked to explain that he had sent the battalion off to search for the missing general, but Kolmel left him no time. "The general still hasn't arrived?"

"Not yet, sir."

"Send a car to meet him. Perhaps he's broken down in the snow."

At the door Giesinger bumped into a man and shouted at him: "What d'you want?"

The man began to stutter. He had his steel helmet on, and now Giesinger recognized him. It was the sentry whose button he had torn off. He cut the stammer short furiously: "Get the hell out of here."

He went to Schnetzler's office, and asked the lieutenant who had taken over Schnetzler's duties: "Is the road through Roznava still blocked?"

"There are five hundred civilians working on it, sir."

"Then they'd better get five thousand working on it, if they're not finished yet. General Stiller must have got stuck in the middle of a column somewhere. Send a car to meet him." He returned to Hepp. "The reconnaissance unit. . . ."

"Ready to leave," said Hepp.

Giesinger looked at him in fury: why hadn't he thought of giving the order himself? "It had better go to Hopper," he said, and stormed back to his room, where he phoned the regiments. What he heard made him more worried still. Wieland still had no contact with the front, and said: "We've hardly ever seen fireworks like this." Hopper too had alarming news.

I must bring Schmitt back, thought Giesinger. He picked up the telephone, but dropped it again as if it were red hot. Instead he went to the signals officer and asked for bulletins from Schmitt.

"Nothing new, sir."

Corps rang through again. This time it was the commanding general in person. His sharp, querulous voice jarred on Giesinger's ears. "General Stiller not with you yet?"

"I'm afraid not, sir ... I can't understand it either. I've sent off a car now to meet him. He should arrive any minute."

"He should have an hour ago," barked the general. "When he's there, call me up at once. Things otherwise?"

"Unchanged," answered Giesinger.

"You have an assault regiment, eight assault guns, a reconnaissance unit and a battalion in reserve. With all that you can plug any gaps."

"Of course, sir," said Giesinger tiredly. He remembered that he had not yet had breakfast, and echoed: "We can plug any gaps."

"Good. And when General Stiller comes. . . ."

"Right, sir." Giesinger put the receiver down.

Now he felt really scared: So the missing general had informed corps about the reserve battalion. He had been a damned fool, he thought, not to have told Kolmel about it just now when he had a good chance. Either he had to call him again at once, or else bring Schmitt back at once to Kosice. For a few moments he fought with himself, but still couldn't decide. His head seemed to have suddenly turned into a sieve; all his thoughts ran away before he could properly grasp them. Never before in his life had a decision cost him so much torment. If he recalled Schmitt, he could pack in all his ambitions, and more than that—his prestige on the staff would go right down the drain. He thought of Hepp's face, and of Fuchs, who was only waiting for him to be humbled. He thought of the orderlies' gossip, of the other officers' mocking faces. He clenched his teeth as he imagined it, and for the first time felt how alone and isolated he was.

When he rushed over to Pfeiffer's shortly afterwards, he still didn't know what to do. Pfeiffer shrugged his shoulders apologetically. "From Schmitt . . . no, nothing new. The connection's all right."

"Where is he at the moment?" asked Giesinger.

Pfeiffer went to a radio receiving set, with three men sitting in front of it. "Ask where Captain Schmitt is."

"We'll hear from him again in ten minutes," answered one of the men.

"What's that mean?" asked Giesinger irritably.

Pfeiffer looked at him in surprise. "Radio contact every half hour. We've been . . ."

"My orders were," Giesinger interrupted, "that you should have continuous contact with Schmitt."

"We'll pass that on the next time he reports, sir," said Pfeiffer, offended.

Giesinger went to Hepp, whom he found standing by the open window. Hepp swung round. "Listen to that, it's getting worse."

Behind the haze of black clouds which covered the mountains, there was a rumbling like heavy thunder. Giesinger hunched his shoulders and shivered. "Can't understand where the general is."

"He could have called you up from the road," remarked Hepp. His face twitched nervously. "Hadn't we better send Fuchs off at once?"

"Of course! He must go to Hopper."

"I don't see that he's needed for Hopper. Now, if we still had Schmitt, then I'd say Schmitt to Wieland, and Fuchs to Hopper."

Giesinger took the thrust without flinching. He had suddenly made up his mind. "Schmitt stays where he is," he said coldly. "You know my opinion. If we can't manage it with Fuchs and the assault regiment, Schmitt's hundred and fifty men wouldn't help us either."

"You can't be sure. When you consider that without Schmitt, Wieland has only two battalions, neither of which is stronger than Schmitt's, the hundred and fifty men are just as important for Wieland as the three hundred he has up there now. From a tactical standpoint. . . ."

"Oh forget about your tactics," exclaimed Giesinger. "What we need now is some luck. Without luck Schmitt's hundred and fifty men would be cut to pieces in five minutes. At Lvov Wieland had four hundred casualties in half an hour, and the fact that there weren't even more had nothing to do with tactics; it was simply that those were all the men he had. Well, things aren't much better today. Call up Fuchs, he should get going."

He watched Hepp while the captain phoned the reconnaissance unit. "I'm sorry, Herr Fuchs," Hepp said. "The major wants you to go forward to Durkov to reinforce the assault regiment."

"I said to Slancik," Giesinger cut in sharply.