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  “Stop here. Sergeant Barker, get the men to make a snow dugout and cover the back with branches.” I walked to a place which was twenty yards from the track but hidden by two huge trees. “Make it here and facing east.”

  “Sir. You two drop the PIAT and rockets there. We are going to play in the snow!” Gordy pointed to the ground. “Scrape a depression all the way to the soil. Pile the snow up in front of you so that the barrel is hidden. You will be the card up the sleeve!”

  I walked back down our trail and then cut across to the trees always ensuring that my tracks could not be seen from the path the tank would take. I listened. I could hear it now. It was getting closer. Although I could hear small arms’ fire I could not hear the main gun. That had been my worry. I had feared that the tank would have turned its gun to blast the wooden emplacements into matchwood. Perhaps they had run out of ammunition. I heard the crump of grenades. As much as I wanted to be at the crossroads with the motley crew of men I had to trust Sergeant Armstrong and Captain Ferguson. I knew I was putting a great deal of faith in my belief that the tanks would try to get home. It was based on the attack at Trois Ponts. There they had held their armour off and let their grenadiers deal with infantry.

  I heard the tank’s huge engine’s noise increase as it began to climb the slight slope. I saw smoke from its exhaust. That meant it had passed the road. I retraced my steps and made my way back to the snow dugout. They had done well in the short time I had been away. You could only see branches and snow. I had to walk around to the rear before I saw the two men.

  I knelt down. “The tank will come up here. It will be noisy and you will think that is so close that it is going to drive over you. Don’t worry the trees will stop that but it will be a terrifying sound. When it is thirty yards up the track fire two rockets in rapid succession. You can’t fire any closer than that and I want to make sure you destroy it. That is why I want you to fire two. One may not do the job. If you can then fire a third.”

  “Where will you be sir?”

  I pointed up the trail, “The Sergeant and I will be up there. If I think they are suspicious then we will draw their fire. They may have grenadiers. As soon as it is destroyed then take your PIAT and head back down the trail to the hamlet.”

  “Do we wait for you, sir?”

  “No. Just get back. They will need you at Blackpool Tower. Don’t run in a straight line and use the trees for cover.”

  “Right sir.”

  The tank was getting closer as it ground up the slippery snow covered trail. The driver would have it in low gear to help with the grip and that made it noisier. It was not as close as it sounded. I could tell the two lads were nervous. “Are you two lads from Wigan as well?”

  The Lance Corporal shook his head, “Us, pie eaters? Nah sir. We have a proper Rugby League team. We are from St. Helens. Lance Corporal Lowery and Private Shaw.” He smiled, “Don’t worry, sir. We won’t let you down!”

  “I know you won’t. Good luck. Come on Sergeant.”

  We headed up through the forest. I squatted down just fifty yards from the PIAT. I could see it but only because I knew where to look. Gordy had done a good job of disguising it. I laid two of my grenades on the ground. I had my Mauser and the MP 34. With only one magazine left for the MP 34 I would have to save that for any infantry who were with the tank. I took the Mauser and adjusted the sight. I made a pile of snow before me and laid the barrel on it. I then piled snow over the barrel making sure that the sight was unobscured. My head was exposed and so I pulled the hood of the camouflage cape over my head. Gordy had his Thompson with the last of my ammunition and his. It gave him two magazines. He, too, laid out two grenades.

  I peered down the trail. I saw the barrel of the tank rising above the snow. “Bugger!”

  “What is it sir?”

  “It is a long barrelled 88. This is a King Tiger or a Panther.”

  “Well you and the Colonel got one of those up the backside with an armoured car, sir. We know they are weak there.”

  I laughed, “Gordy Barker becoming the optimist!”

  “Of course sir, it is almost New Year!”

  I peered through the sights as the tank came into view. As it turned the corner, a hundred and fifty yards from me I saw that it was not a King Tiger. It was the tank destroyer version of the Panther. It was a Jagdpanther. With a steeply sloping front they were almost impossible to be destroyed from the front as the shells bounced off them. I had never seen one before but I had seen the Panzer IV version. Colonel Devine had told me of these new tank destroyers. I was glad that this was the first one we had seen.

  The sloping sides meant that the Panzer Grenadiers who normally rode on the tanks were having to cling on to the spare barrel and track just behind the immobile turret. There were six of them. Their white camouflage capes made them stand out against the camouflage paint of the tank destroyer. We would have to take them out. I glanced to my left. Gordy had hidden himself too. The tank destroyer lumbered up towards us. What I did not know was the thickness of the armour on this one. However, as the gun could not traverse if the PIAT failed to penetrate the armour Gordy and I could disable it through the hatch or the visor. The tank destroyer was level with the PIAT when disaster struck. One of the Panzer Grenadiers glanced down and he must have seen the barrel of the PIAT.

  I saw him point down and shout. As they were clinging on to the hull they had to release one hand to bring their weapons around. I fired the Mauser and shot the sergeant who had spotted the gun. Gordy let rip with the Thompson. Two men fell and the other three leapt from the back and took cover on the far side of the Jagdpanther. The tank destroyer kept coming up the slope and the machine gun in the sponson began to fire. We were lucky that it could not depress very far. The trees above our head were shredded. It began to turn to give a better angle. That would not do. The PIAT needed a square on shot to stand a chance.

  We had to draw the Jagdpanther back on track. “Keep watch on the grenadiers.” I rolled to my right and rose. I fired the rifle from the hip and the bullet clanged off the huge steel behemoth. It was just thirty yards from me. The machine gun and the tank both tried to turn to follow me. I knew that I would soon be under fire from the Panzer Grenadiers as well as any others who were heading up the track.

  As I reached the other side I felt a tug on my right arm as they opened fire. I rolled into the snow. I rose and brought up the Mauser. I idly noticed blood on my sleeve. The nearest Panzer Grenadier was just twenty yards from me. He raised his MP 35 but my bullet took him in the chest, throwing him to the ground. I had another shell loaded as the second raised his hand with a grenade. My bullet also hit his chest and the grenade fell. Just as the grenade exploded the first PIAT rocket struck. There was a huge explosion, It deafened me. The massive monster continued to roll. Then there was a second explosion as the men from East Lancashire sent another one into the damaged rear. I was lying on my back and I saw the turret fly through the air. It landed thirty feet from me.

  I jumped to my feet. I saw that the last of the Panzer Grenadiers had been killed by his comrade’s grenade. I ran to the dugout. The two men from St. Helens were still there. “Well done but shift yourselves! We need you back in the hamlet. Go to the hall. We may need the PIAT there.”

  “Sir, you are wounded!”

  “Don’t worry about that. Obey your orders.”

  “Sir!”

  “Sergeant Barker!”

  Gordy appeared behind me. He had spare ammunition for my MP 34 and grenades from the dead Germans as well as the two M2 grenades. He dropped them when he saw my arm. He took out a dressing.

  “Sergeant, we don’t have time for this.”

  “Sir, we do! There are no more Jerries between us and the hamlet. You can hear them firing. They are trying to take it and we will need you if we are to hold on.” He had torn my battle dress to expose the wound. He grabbed a handful of snow to both clean the wound and help the blood to coagulate. He had a careful look. “Y
ou have been lucky sir. It has gone straight through the fleshy part of your upper arm.” He shook on the antiseptic powder and then tied the dressing tightly around it. Taking his dagger he slashed one of the camouflage capes from a dead German and fashioned it into a sling. “I’ll take your guns, sir. You can use your Luger. Wait here. You can follow me this time! There are Jerries down there, sir. We are not out of this yet. Not by a long chalk.”

  The snow on the wound and the sling supporting my arm meant that I was not in pain. That would not last. As soon as the arm warmed up then it would begin to ache. I would have to endure sleepless nights. There would be no evacuation to a base hospital for me. As we descended the slight slope the snow fell once more. There were few flakes on us for we were in the trees but at the road it was falling heavily. It would make the visibility poor and that would suit the Germans.

  The firefight sounded one sided as we headed down the slope. There were more Allied bullets than Germans. The Germans were conserving their ammunition. I saw that the PIAT crew had headed further left. They were making for the hall. They had obeyed their orders. We had defeated one enemy tank but there might be others. The PIATs were not the best of weapons but they were a weapon we could use.

  Gordy held up his hand and dropped to a knee. I joined him. Below us, about sixty yards away were six snow covered figures. They were making their way along the treeline to outflank the defenders. I could see what Hugo’s men had done. They had been drawn to the firing at their front and they had not looked to the side. They were firing blindly and in a panic. The six Germans were less than forty feet from them and were stealthily moving through the snow. I levelled my Luger. It was extreme range but we had little choice. Gordy took out a grenade and laid the MP34 on the snow. Neither of us said a word. We had no need to. We had been doing this for years. It was second nature and we could read each other’s minds.

  He pulled back his arm and hurled the grenade high. Its arc and our height meant that it would explode in the air. There was a risk to our men but it was a slight one. I fired slowly and methodically from right to left as Gordy sprayed them with my MP 34. As soon as we fired they looked around but by then it was too late. Three fell to bullets and then the grenade scythed through the others. I saw one of the East Lancashire men turn in surprise as the grenade went off. We slithered and slid down to them.

  Gordy shouted, “Parr, watch your flank! You would have been dead men then!”

  “Sorry, Sergeant, but there are so many of them.”

  I dropped next to the Corporal, “They are running out of ammunition. Pick your targets and stop wasting bullets.”

  “Sir.”

  “Sergeant Barker, go and check on the crossroads. Leave my MP 34 here.”

  “Sir!” He gave me a disapproving look.

  “I don’t want to move too much and this is the critical point, at the moment.” As he handed me my gun and the last magazine I added quietly, “These lads need someone to take charge.” I pointed to Hugo who was on the other side of the emplacement. He was being the hero and firing with his men on the front line. He was not looking for the danger and organizing his resources. “Captain Ferguson needs help. You and Sergeant Armstrong should be able to deal with the crossroads. The greatest danger will be if they have any more armour trying to get through.”

  “Yes sir.”

  I holstered my Luger and picked up the machine pistol and magazine. The Corporal and his men were armed with a Bren gun and two rifles. “You three, echelon yourselves to be at an angle to the rest of the line. You have line of sight to the track. Your job is to watch for anyone trying to sneak around the houses and get into our rear.”

  “But what if there is no one here, sir? We should be fighting with the other lads.”

  “Corporal, obey orders.”

  “Yes sir.”

  The next six men were all from the Engineers. They had rifles. Their barrels were so hot that they had melted the snow. Even as I approached a private fell backwards with a third eye. The other five almost emptied their magazines in response. I crawled next to them raised my MP 34 and rested it on the log. I fired a burst of five bullets.

  “Sergeant, you are wasting bullets. The smoke from your rifles is obscuring the enemy. That is how they got close to you.”

  “But sir, they are wearing white! You can’t see them!”

  “Their faces aren’t white. There is no hurry here. We are going nowhere and they are running out of bullets. They want our food and they want the hamlet. They can find shelter here. They have to cover the open ground in front of you. Stop wasting bullets.”

  The sling was getting in my way and so I took my arm out of it. It was a mistake as a paroxysm of pain shot down my arm. I gritted my teeth and bore it. I supported the barrel of the gun.

  “Now then look for targets.” I could ill afford to spend too long here but I needed to train them on the job. If I did not then we would not survive. “Work in pairs. Only one of you fires while the other watches. It saves bullets and will stop you being surprised.”

  The Sergeant’s gun bucked and I saw an arm fall backwards as he hit a German. “Like that sir?”

  “Just like that. Calm and slow, lads eh?”

  I stared through the driving snow. It was hard to see the Germans. They were past masters at hiding in plain view. Their camouflage capes helped. They knew that, face down, they were invisible. Then I saw a snow drift move. It was a German. He was sixty yards from me and on the other side of the road in the trees. I followed him and saw them trying to set up an MG 42. I levelled the MP 34 and fired two short bursts. I waited a heartbeat and sent another burst in their direction. The gun clicked empty and I put in my last magazine.

  The Sergeant said, “You got a couple, sir.”

  “Well keep your eye on the place they fell. They have an MG 42 and that can do some serious damage. Your Lee Enfields have the range. Now keep their heads down while I go and speak with Captain Ferguson.”

  “Yes, sir, and thanks!”

  I crawled along to the emplacement. The Sergeant turned as I moved into it. “Sir, we are using a lot of ammo!”

  “Then stop!”

  “What sir?”

  “Stop wasting it! There is no chance of getting more. Husband it and choose your shots. You have rifles, use them. Aim at the men you are trying to kill.”

  “But sir, Captain Ferguson said to make this a killing zone!”

  “And I am telling you to save your ammo. Your rifles have a better range anyway.”

  One of his men said, “But sir, in the snow we can see bugger all!”

  “Exactly. That means they can’t see you. They can see the muzzles of your guns when you fire. Do the same to the Germans. Stop firing and then either fire when they move or when you see the muzzle flash.”

  “Yes sir.”

  I slipped back outside. The snow was getting worse. Hugo was firing as fast as any of his men. “Captain Ferguson, come here if you please.”

  He was grinning like a schoolboy, “I heard the explosion. Did you get the tank, sir?”

  “Yes, I did but it will be for naught if you have the men wasting ammunition. Go around the men to the left and tell them that they must only fire when they have a target!”

  “Sir, what if they rush us?”

  “Then we will have won for they will have to be desperate to do so!” I sighed. It had been much easier with the Americans. They had been fighting men from one unit. This was a cobbled together concoction and it showed. “Hugo, they will wait until night and then they will creep forward and use cold steel to kill us. When they have our guns they will slaughter us, eat our food and sleep in the houses. The road to the East is open. They could head through the woods and get home. They are hungry, cold and have little ammunition. All that they do have is the ability to kill. Sadly our men do not.” He looked deflated, “Sorry Hugo, but this is war. I would stick to being a staff officer. Pins on boards do not fight back.” He nodded and holstered his W
ebley. “I will stay here with your chaps.”

  I had been cruel but he needed a dose of the truth. Gordy and I had been made the way we were from St. Nazaire, through Dieppe, North Africa, Sicily, Italy and Normandy. I was not the same soldier who had run to Dunkirk. Now I was a Commando and, as Corporal Parr had said, a killer. Hugo was better off being what he was. A nice bloke.

  “You chaps, stop firing. You are doing no good. I want you to wait until you see a target. That is an order.” I picked up the rifle of a dead Royal Corps of Transport trooper. He lay with a hole in his shoulder. I took the spare ammunition from his webbing and laid them on the top of the breastworks. I used the wood to support my rifle. My arm still ached and I knew that blood was seeping from the wound but the cold would slow it down and it would stop. I peered down the sight. The Germans had not advanced across the road. Traffic along the road had piled up snow and it meant they could shelter behind it. That gave me an idea. I waited until a German popped his head up to see if we were firing. He ducked down straightaway. I aimed the rifle where his head had appeared and then fired into the snowbank below. I fired two shots. I saw the two men next to me look as though I was mad. I saw the snow through which I had fired begin to redden.

  I risked looking at my watch. It was afternoon. The blizzard would bring night early and then they would come. If the weather forecast was correct then the snow would stop and we would have a clear night. The Germans might find it harder to approach then. They would come at dusk before the snow had stopped.

  I fired at another head which appeared. I had no idea if I hit anyone but my bullet brought a fusillade of shots from the enemy. My men had heeded my orders. There was less firing from them now. That did not mean that no one died. Our men were still hit and I heard cheers as my men’s bullets found flesh. Hugo returned as did Gordy.

  “The crossroads is quiet sir. Sergeant Armstrong has it under control.”