The Lost Platoon
Chapter 3: Dishonourable Genius
Ernst studied the scene curiously and carefully as a steady stream of vehicles and soldiers moved somewhat reluctantly in the opposite direction, gradually disappearing over the horizon like ships headed out to conquer the seas. Large tracts of dust swirled through the air, obscuring some of the movement but the slow rumbling of the tanks could be clearly heard. The platoon was in the Sudetenland, part of the forces marching in to seize the territory currently being vacated by the Czechoslovakian forces. Considering the quality and numbers of the fortifications and emplacements they had passed thus far, Ernst regarded the Munich Agreement as a stroke of genius by this point.
“You’d think they’d be gone by now.” Said Muller in a disconcerted tone. “It has been more than a week since the agreement was signed and still we find stragglers. This is German land now, they should be gone.”
“It takes time to move an entire army.” Replied Ernst as he remained focused on the horizon. After a few minutes he stopped looking through his binoculars as the mass of Czech forces became so tiny they could barely be seen. “I almost feel sorry for them.”
“What?” Muller asked stupefied.
“An Army giving up territory without even a single shot being fired. It’s not very honourable.”
“True.” Muller conceded. “But they shouldn’t have had the land to give up in the first place.” Before Ernst could reply to Muller’s automatic regurgitation of propaganda the commander of second platoon - Lieutenant Reinhardt had abruptly appeared beside him. He was older than Ernst and had become something of a mentor to him since they first met during the Anschluss preparations. He had taught him a lot of command techniques and Ernst constantly turned to him for advice.
“Lieutenant Kaufmann, the officers of B Company have been invited for dinner at the residence of some local Baron. Shall you be joining us?” Reinhardt was a man who got straight to the point, avoiding small talk like it was the plague. Ernst appreciated that. He felt Reinhardt would make an excellent superior officer.
“No thanks.” Ernst replied politely. “I would rather spend more time getting to know my platoon.” Reinhardt gave the slightest of nods before saluting and exiting just as quickly as he had arrived. Ernst didn’t really need to get to know his platoon better, he just felt more comfortable around them than a bunch of officers who talked endlessly of his father’s exploits and deeds. Either that or they talked about the pros and cons of admitting Spain into the Axis, another subject Ernst couldn't possibly care less about.
“Spot the Prussian.” Muller said derisively under his breath.
“I beg your pardon Corporal?” Ernst asked. “Reinhardt is a fine officer, and his being a Prussian does not subtract from that reality.”
“He’s uptight.” Muller replied dismissively. “He also looks down on me as if I’m some fucking peasant.” Ernst looked at Muller quizzically.
“He does not look down on you. You’re just being paranoid.”
“Lieutenant.” Sergeant Ketterer had appeared behind Ernst and Muller during their discussion on Reinhardt. He handed Ernst a sheet of paper. “Company HQ are requesting your immediate presence. It sounds urgent.” Ernst looked over the sheet of paper with an annoyed look on his face, which gradually turned to a mixture of confusion and fear.
“What is it?” Muller queried.
“The Gestapo want to question me.” Ernst’s voice was almost trembling. “Why on earth would they want to question me?”
“Because you’re a Soviet spy?” Muller replied in humour before quickly realising it was out of place and holding his hands up in apology. “I’m sure it’s nothing serious.”
“Nothing serious? The only thing not serious around here is you.” Ketterer began. “The Gestapo does not mess around. When they want something, they get it. Just remember that the platoon is behind you one hundred percent no matter what.”
“Easy to say when you’re not the one being chased by the trench coats.” Muller sneered.
Ernst took a deep breath and headed off to meet his fate.
