Chapter 6
Location: Polish Border, Lwow
The wind swept over the darkened landscape, and I could see the sun rising in the distance. The smell of gunpowder was fresh in my nostrils, and could see brief flashes in the distance. My regiment was the first heading into Poland along the Romanian border, with five other divisions of this army group. Trees lined the roads on both sides, and the going was slow. The August weather was unusually wet and the muddy tracks kept the artillery and antitank guns floundering behind us. The infantry trudged ahead gloomily, as if some forbodeing presence was ahead. Recon had indicated only one Polish division ahead, but we couldn't be certain. The air was cool and crisp, aside from the constant fear. This was the first time I had been in combat, and aside from Ivan, and several other older officers, the division was entirely fresh and not battlehardened. This could be a problem. We kept our pace for several hours until daybreak, when the Polish town of Lwow was spotted by the forward obsevers. Once the whole division was in range, I settled down for a better look on the hill we were positioned on. The town wasn;t much to look at: most buildings were smoking and crumbling from previous reaids by the air force, and there was very little activity going on.
"Sir!" I heard a voice call.
I turned to see one of my scouts hop from a waiting Kubelwagen, another of the many vehicles we had bought from Germany.
"Yes, Private?"
"Well, Sir, all the Polish units are hunkered in that town. We have not met one Pole outside this area, and so we assume that it is holding 'em all, Sir. It'll be tough, as we can't see everything, so it's pretty much house-to-house clearing. It's the nightmare, Sir."
Yes, it was, I thought.
Ivan, now next to me, snorted.
"Just tell the little fuckers to fix bayonets..." he said "...Sir." he jeered.
I trusted this man more than any other at this point so I didn't hesitate.
I called down the lines to fix bayonets, and wait for further orders.
Moments later, as I was conversing with my officers on the best course of action, I heard yet another car coming down the beaten road. Spraying dust on several hunkered men, it skidded to a stop. They rose to meet this threat, but stopped when the man inside stepped out.
It was the CHief of the Army, and he had approached to get the first good look at the ROmanian Army in action.
"Sir." I nodded.
"Ah, it' good to see you again friend." He smiled under his bushy moustache. His glare fixed on Lwow. "I trust the men are ready?"
"Uhm, yes Sir, we just we figuring out a course of acti..." I stumbled, but his hand went up in a motion to stop.
"No, there will be no planning. The Leader has expressed his thoughts of a quick victory. 'Just send the lads in', were his exact words. So, General, I intend to watch this display." he clasped my hand tightly in a firm handshake. His eyes fixed on mine. "Don't disappoint me."
I nodded, saluted, which he returned, and went back to the line. I whispered the plans to the other officers, who shook their heads in dismay.
A half hour later, all the men were assembled, and the artillery had just finished being brought up. Their barrells blasted ammunition to the town, and saw them fly into the seemingly empty plazas, and buldings. But there were Poles there, and I intended to kill them, for myself, the Leader, and Romania. I looked over at my subordinate, who blew a shrill note aon his whistle. Other responded all along the line. The men yeled fiercely, rose to the tip of the hill, and pludged over to the target. Screaming like madmen, we headed to certain death. As I charged with the men, as I always swore I would (though this greatly displeased other high ranking officials), I extended my submachinegun forward, and yelled as loudly as I could. We werre approaching the outer perimeter of the town of Lwow, without a shot being fired so far.
Suddenly, a single shot rang out from one of the buildings, and a puff of smoke drifted up into the heavens. The man next to me fell int othe ground, bledding from the back of his head. A puddle formed around him, and his lifeless body was contorted in horrible ways. One of the younger men stopped dead and vomited. ANother stopped, and ran screaming the other direction, back to the hill. Ivan pulled his service pistol and planted a bullte in his brains, while running still towards Lwow.
God help us, for what we about to receive.
