Authors: Harvey Black
Devils with Wings
A qualified parachutist, Harvey Black served with British Army Intelligence for over ten years. His experience ranges from covert surveillance in Northern Ireland to operating in Communist East Berlin during the cold war, where he feared for his life after being dragged from his car by KGB soldiers.
Since then he has lived a more sedate life in the private sector as a Director for an International Company, but now enjoys the pleasures of writing. Harvey is married with four children.
D e v i l s w i t h W i n g s
The Green Devils assault on Fort Eben Emael
Harvey Black
Copyright © 2011 Harvey Black
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced, stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers, or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms of licences issued by the Copyright Licensing Agency. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside those terms should be sent to the publishers.
This Novel is a work of fiction. Names and Characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
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ISBN 978 1848767 072
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
Cover Photograph: Bundesarchive -Bild 101I-569-1579-14A
Photo, DR Stocker, 1 September 1943
Typeset in 11pt Bembo by Troubador Publishing Ltd, Leicester, UK
Printed and bound in the UK by TJ International, Padstow, Cornwall
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Table of Condents
To my wife Melanie, for her patience.
The Oberleutnant signalled for the two MG 34, general-purpose machine guns to be set up on the right flank on hill 172. The grassy hilltop, four kilometres to the east of the village Wola-Gulowska, north east of the city of Pulawy, in Poland, overlooked the deciduous woods below where the rest of the first Battalion, the first Fallschirmjager Regiment was moving into position. Its task to flush out and assault a Polish Artillery Regiment that was believed to be positioned in and around the woods.
The hilltop provided an ideal vantage point with good fields of fire. The Oberleutnant, from second company, the first Battalion, had also set up two additional troops of Fallschirmjager on the left flank, to provide supplementary cover for the Companies that would assault the woods below.
Although he was yet to see combat, his four years serving in the German Army prior to joining the Fallschirmjager, gave him the confidence he needed to complete his task. And more importantly, he had the confidence of his men.
The twenty five year old officer, tall and dark haired, favouring the Fuhrers hairstyle and moustache that many emulated, appraised the cover available to him and his men.
There wasn’t a great deal of cover. The short carpet of grass and the few shrubs were not sufficient for Bier and his men to lose themselves in and the few boulders that were scattered along the stretch ahead were too conspicuous, not to mention lethal.
The third Battalion had recently lost a paratrooper, not from direct fire, but from flying particles of rock fragmented from boulders such as these, executed by an exploding grenade. He lingered on the memory of the injury the soldier had succumbed to, the deep open gash on the neck. He would ensure that the lesson had been learnt and the same fate would not befall his platoon.
Because of this lack of cover and the additional risk of being silhouetted against the backdrop of the sky behind them, Oberleutnant Bier had ordered the men to dig shell scrapes, those shallow depressions that would provide them with some cover. They couldn’t dig any deeper, as only less than a metre below the surface it was just pure rock.
Although he had told the paratroopers to dig the shell scrapes, it had not been necessary. These were Fallschirmjager, paratroopers from the elite 7th Flieger Division, ‘The Green Devils’.
It was ten in the morning, on the twenty fourth of September nineteen thirty nine, and as part of the continuing subjugation of Poland, a Battalion, in the shadow of the overlooking hill, was due to start its assault on the woods below. They would enter the woods from three sides, the Oberleutnant’s platoon providing them cover from the hilltop.
As the Oberleutnant moved forward to check the positions of his troops, ensuring they had interlocking fields of fire and knew the entry point for each element of the Battalion assaulting the woods, his Feldwebel, who seemed agitated, approached him.
“Sir, look, over there!”
Feldwebel Manke was pointing at what appeared to be a polish soldier walking over towards them.
The Oberleutnant looked up to see what was clearly a Polish soldier, sporting a brown “rogatywka” field cap. With his brown officer’s field jacket, tight breeches and shiny black boots with spurs, everything about his appearance suggested he was a Polish Officer, and a Cavalry officer at that. In addition, he carried a dark brown field bag and leather pistol holster, further supporting the premise that he was an officer.
His behaviour seemed most odd. He continued to walk up the slope of the hill, but seemed fidgety and kept looking behind him.
“Feldwebel, bring him over here,” commanded the Oberleutnant.
Manke grabbed hold of two troopers, ordering them to secure the Polish Officer and bring him to the Oberleutnant at the double.
The two soldiers picked up their weapons and ran towards the approaching Polish soldier. He continued to walk towards the German position, paying little attention to the two approaching German paratroopers.
Just before they were able to get a hold of him, the Polish officer suddenly started punching his right arm up and down in the air, looking over his shoulder behind him.
Feldwebel Manke looked at his officer, “I don’t like the look of this sir, what’s he up to?” he queried.
Before Oberleutnant Bier could respond the first rounds came in from the north east, one hitting one of the troopers who had gone to secure the Polish officer, in the shoulder.
The second trooper was hit twice in the leg, the shock clearly on his face as he went down, his legs lifeless and un-responding. He wasn’t even able to feel the blood that was radiating out from the entry point of the bullet, blooming like a darkened rose, soaking his combat trousers. His last thoughts were of his Fiancée as the light seemed to fade and all that was left was darkness.
The Polish soldiers had been lying in a dip, unseen, about two hundred metres below the crest and had been well hidden. They must have been on their way up to secure the hill top, to cover their assembling troops below, when the German paratroopers had beaten them to it coming up the other side.
“Gun group give covering fire,” shouted Oberleutnant Bier.
“Where is the enemy?” screamed Feldwebel Manke.
The Troop Commander on the far right called out, “two hundred metres, lone boulder, LMG!”
“Number one and two gun group, target that LMG!” ordered Bier, “get their bloody heads down!”
The MG 34s opened up immediately, a swathe of shot finding its way to the advancing polish soldiers.
Both Bier and Manke threw themselves to the ground, before they too became a target for the Polish gunners.
The Polish Officer could no longer be seen; he had obviously retired quickly once the firing had started. His role as a distraction for the German soldiers had been successful. While they had been focusing their attention on this single Polish soldier, the Polish unit had been getting into position to assault the hilltop.
The two gun groups were now returning heavy fire on the enemy soldiers. Both rifle troops, although being on the left flank, where it was difficult for them to clearly see a target or the enemy, also returned fire. Although the rifle troops’ fire may have been ineffective, it added to the clamour of sound, hopefully disrupting the Polish advance.
But, the Polish troops had the upper hand, as their patrol had ambushed the paratroopers and taken them completely by surprise, they were now the hunters.
The paratroopers had been caught on the hop. The majority of the Fallschirmjager division had not yet seen any action and their inexperience had been shown up today.
Two more troopers went down from the hail of bullets that the polish attack force was still able to dispense, despite the suppression fire from the Germans.