Devils with Wings: Silk Drop (18 page)

The Raven continued. “3/LLSR will land to the south east of the airfield. This is where the rest of the battalion comes in, just in case you thought you were being were left out Janke.”

“I knew you would have a place for us sir,” responded Helmut, nudging Paul as he said it.

“But there are no cafe’s in that area,” added Bach. This brought howls of laughter from the group at Helmut’s expense, even Paul struggled to hold back a glimmer of a smile.

“We will be acting as a screen, in company groups,” continued Volkman, “shielding the assault on the airfield. They will have enough to contend with once they leave their gliders, so it is down to us to baby sit them while they punch into the enemy. We must take that airfield if we are to fly in reinforcements, our mountain climbers. Brands men will be landing here,” he said indicating the small village of Pagantha, on the larger scale map pinned up by the Adjutant. “The rest of the battalion will land here, here and here, he indicated, sweeping a line running north to south, east of the airfield.

“We will need to be in a position to repel any counter attacks that the Allied forces are likely to throw at us. Company groups will be too small to hold them back for long, but we need to hold them back long enough so we can take that airfield,” he said banging the table, making some of the assembled men jump.

The Raven returned to the other side of the table and sat down in a vacant seat facing the assembled men and nodded to Bach to continue.

“Order of battle. As a result of our ‘special status’, we will not have the same establishment as the rest of the Division. But, we will have some additional troopers at Company HQ level but not the mortar troop that our brethren have. But we will have a medic attached to Company Headquarters going forwards and for this operation only we’ll have a mortar detachment joining each company, except the Headquarters Company. They will receive two additional MG 34 sections of five men each.”

There was a murmur amongst the group. Although they accepted that as a result of their new status they needed to be light on their feet if they were to carry out these independent roles, the lack of mortars did weaken their firepower when compared to standard battalions. Paul thought back to the enemy troops in the farm buildings preparing to assault them on the hillock. A few rounds from a Granatwerfer 36, would have soon smoked them out.

“It will give you some well needed additional firepower,” added Volkman, still remaining seated.

“They will be joining you tomorrow,” added Bach. “So make them welcome and integrate them into your units. That’s all for now, there will be more detailed briefings, by Company, tomorrow, to enable you to prepare your men for what is expected of them. Any questions?”

“What will the mortar troop consist off sir?” asked Helmut.

“Normally it would consist of four tubes and twenty men, but we will be allocated three tubes and ten men.”

“How many rounds will we carry sir?” asked Nadel

“Twenty four bombs per tube, so that means additional container drops I’m afraid. You must allow for more time collecting your equipment and supplies in your calculations when planning your movement timings.”

Paul started to speak, it came out as almost a croak to start with. “What’s our role once we’ve completed the blocking manoeuvre sir?”

“I’ll take that question Hauptman,” interrupted Volkman holding his hand up to the Adjutant. “The attacks on Maleme, Heraklion and Hania are just the start. The Division will have to sweep through the entire northern coast of Crete from Maleme to Sitia. Our role will be to shadow the main force on its most southern flank, warning the main body of counterattacks and disrupting those attacks until the main force can respond. So, prepare your men for a prolonged fight.

“Thank you sir,” responded Paul.

They spent another hour questioning their two senior officers about the various aspects of the mission, probing their individual areas of concern, Paul’s being the difficulty of resupply. Once all had been extracted, the meeting was adjourned, with the entire battalion staff repeating one of the Fallschirmjager’s ten commandments.

“You are the elite of the Wehrmacht. For you, combat shall be fulfilment. You shall seek it out and train yourself to stand any test.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

“The men are ready sir,” said Max, having thrust his head through the tent opening.

“Thank you Max, I’ll be with you in two.”

Feldwebel Grun left to re-join the assembled men, waiting the
attendance of their company commander.

Paul was sat on his bunk, reading a letter, from his mother, he had received the previous day. They both sent their love and wished him safe during whatever it was he was involved in. It had been nearly three weeks since he had been home and the shock of discovering the loss of someone he had grown close to. The ache was still there, eating away at him. Restless, sleepless nights of tossing and turning, his mind running through the events leading up to his first discovery of the bombed out apartment building.

He quickly snapped out of his preoccupation with Christa’s death and refocused his attention on this morning’s event. A pep talk to his men prior to going into battle tomorrow. They expected it, not so much due to tradition, but more about seeking reassurance from their commander that the strategy was right and the tactics sound. Although all knew, particularly Fallschirmjager, that jumping into the jaws of a hostile force there would be casualties and loss of life, it was still good to know that it was for a purpose and well thought out. Paul was not sure what to say to alleviate their concerns. This was the largest airborne assault ever, and had no precedence, so the consequences of such an action were unknown. He thought about it with some concern. Heavy anti-aircraft fire. That moment suspended in space when they would be exposed to small arms fire from the ground, potentially surrounded by the enemy when they were on the ground and ammunition running short before they had barely started.

He tucked the letter into the pocket of his tunic and eased himself up off the bed. Looking around his confined space, checking off his equipment that was placed ready for when needed, he grabbed his MP40 and peaked cap off the hook suspended from the side of the tent. Ducking under his four pocketed Tuchrock suspended from the centre of his billet, not needed now as he was dressed in his no. 2 pattern jump smock, the new camouflaged version, he headed towards the exit of his palatial abode. He pushed through the tent flap and stepped out into a sunlit dawn, the sun low in the sky. At least the meeting with his troopers would be relatively cool at this time of day. He walked away from the tent, making his way through the bivouacked lines to one of the few grassed areas of the airfield.

His men immediately rose from the burnt grass as he approached, commanded by Max, and stood to attention, the officers and Max throwing him a smart salute.

“At ease, make yourselves comfortable. As comfortable as you can in these salubrious surroundings.”

The men sat or crouched back down on the soft grass, smiling at Paul’s early attempt at humour.

Paul squatted down in the semi-circle of his assembled men, already feeling more positive being amongst them, another family.

“I just want to get a status check, go through a few minor details before the operation tomorrow and then get what rest or sleep you can. Reveille will be at 0400, and on board the aircraft for six.”

He took off his hat, the rest of the unit taking it as a signal to follow suit, the officers removing their caps, the men their Fallschirm, wiping his brow with the back of his left hand.

“Report please Leeb.”

Leeb stood up, his face dead pan as he delivered his report on his units readiness for battle. “Platoon present and correct bar one, sir. We’ve managed to scrounge some extra water bottles, but not enough for two per man.”

“Feldwebel Grun, could you use your persuasive powers to lighten the Quartermasters stocks?” Asked Paul.

“Jawohl, Herr Oberleutnant.”

“Anything else Leeb?”

“No sir, we’re ready.”

Leutnant Roth?”

The young officer stood up, although short in stature he made up for it with his eagerness to complete any task given to him. “A full platoon sir. We’ve also struggled to get water bottles and have been waiting some time for the extra grenades we requested.”

“I know sir, use my persuasive skills,” interjected Max, drawing a laugh from the Company.

He’s coming back into the fold slowly thought Max, who had been worried about his Commander’s lacklustre attitude these past few weeks. But there was just the occasional spark, like today, playing their tit-for-tat word games for the benefit of the men, in an effort to help relax them on the eve of battle.

Nadel was the last Platoon Commander to report, raising similar issues to the others.

“Unterfeldwebel Richter, your troop fit and ready?”

The slim, dark haired Commander of the Mortar Troop, jumped up from his sitting position, his narrow face fixed with the confidence in himself, his men and the contribution they would make to the success of the mission.

“Yes sir.”

“Any problems?”

“There seems to be a shortage of weapons canisters sir. The sudden demand for canisters for mortar bombs means our battalion allocation is insufficient.”

This was always a worry during times of large operations, his company alone would require in excess of one hundred of them. “How many are you short of?”

“Four sir.”

The entire company turned to look at the Company Feld, who nodded his head in supplication, Richter looking on in bewilderment at the chuckling paratroopers around him. He was not yet fully indoctrinated in to the tight knit unit and the bond that existed between the Company Commander and his tough Company Sergeant. He was slowly comprehending the high esteem both these soldiers were held in inside the unit and even within the battalion.

“What are the consequences of not having them?”

“We would either have to leave some of our bombs behind or reduce our reserves of personal ammunition. I suggest we take all of our bombs and depend on the Company’s stocks for the rest.”

“That could eat into a platoons reserve sir,” added Nadel.

“I agree Leutnant, but having mortars will significantly enhance our long range firepower,” responded Paul. “Hopefully it won’t come to that. I will press for additional containers as it will be much harder for us to be resupplied on the flanks of the main body. Thank you Unterfeld Richter.”

The NCO sat back down and Paul surveyed the semi-circle of men in front of him. They looked fit, healthy and all had varying degrees of a tan, which they had acquired from their time in Greece. Although they had been training hard, particularly in incorporating the new addition to their Company strength, the mortar troop, practicing fire request procedures, learning how to get the best effect from a mortar barrage and the consequences of getting the coordinates wrong and hitting their own men with a bombardment, they looked fresh and rested. They emanated confidence. Although he didn’t want to dent that confidence, he needed them to go into combat with their eyes open and ready for an enemy that wasn’t going to give up the island without a fight.

“Tomorrow we yet again fly into battle. Many of you have fought with me before, some since the start of hostilities in Poland. You know that I will take the fight to the enemy.” He looked across and could see Max and many of the others nodding.

“Yes, we are the best, yes we are the elite of the German Army, but do not underestimate what is ahead of us gentlemen. We, in particular, will be fighting on the fringes of the main force. Saying that we’ll be thin on the ground would be an understatement. Vigilance is the watchword. Don’t take anything for granted and be prepared to react and move quickly as the situation demands.”

He looked specifically at the officers directly in front of him. “We must keep the enemy on their toes, so that means aggressive patrolling. If you find yourselves stationery for any period of time, whether for a break, awaiting further orders, or just holding up for a resupply, ensure that scouts are sent out immediately. Don’t put them at too much risk, we don’t want the entire Company scattered around our sector, but you need to have a good perspective of your area of responsibility.”

He waited, letting his officers, NCOs and men digest what he had just imparted. He could see Helmut and the other two Company Commanders waiting for him on the periphery of his briefing. He asked for questions. There was a fifteen minute two-way dialogue before he finally dismissed his men to carry on with their respective duties. He then spent a few minutes with Max, discussing the readiness of the Company as a whole, a brief exchange of views on the shortage of drop canisters and a brief consultation on his views of the integration of the new Mortar troop, but all seemed well.

“They’re a good bunch of lads sir and have kept a low profile until fully accepted by all,” said Max.

“That’s good to hear, the last thing we want is a splinter group in the unit. What about you Max?”

“Rested and ready sir, starting to get a bit restless anyway.”

“The trips to the Taverna been successful?” asked Paul with a wry smile.

Max looked at him with a puzzled look on his face. “Someone been talking sir?” responded Max with his arms folded across his stuck out chest.