Night of Flames: A Novel of World War II by Douglas W. Jacobson
Authors: Douglas W. Jacobson
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Flames
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looked up, locking eyes with Jan. “Major Kopernik will lead the Twenty-ninth Uhlans into Walewice and secure it to block any escape of the Germans from Glowno.” Romanofski turned to a reconnaissance offi cer who was standing off to the side. “Kruzak, what do we know about Walewice?”
Kruzak coughed and produced a tattered notebook. “Our scouts have spotted a small contingent of German troops in the town. They’ve also gotten information from a few of the local farmers. No machine guns or artillery have been reported. We estimate it’s just a small unit—two or three rifl e platoons, probably not even on alert.”
“How old is this information?” Jan asked.
“Most of it is from late yesterday morning, twelve to fi fteen hours ago,”
Kruzak said.
“OK, that’s the situation,” Romanofski declared. “Jan, it sounds like these guys in Walewice are just sittin’ on their asses. Take the Twenty-ninth in there and secure it before they can radio any alarms. You’ll have surprise and darkness on your side so go in hard and fast. When you’ve got it secured, leave one squadron behind and head down the road to Glowno to cut off any Krauts trying to head north.”
Romanofski turned to the other four regimental offi cers. “The rest of the brigade will launch the main assault on Glowno.”
Jan only half listened. He wondered about twelve-hour-old scouting reports. Then put them out of his mind. They were all the information he was going to get.
When the briefi ng ended, Jan headed for the Twenty-ninth Uhlans’ staging area. Kapitan Lech Peracki, one of his squadron commanders, came up alongside him. “Shit, Jan, it sounds like we’re going to miss all the action.”
Jan glanced at the younger man. He was a good offi cer, perhaps a bit eager, but fearless in battle and completely dependable. “There’re plenty of Germans out there, Lech. We’ll get our chance.”
“I hope so,” Peracki said, with a grin. “We’ve chased the bastards halfway across the country.”
Jan watched as Peracki moved on, and thought about the exchange. He understood Peracki’s disappointment at not being part of the main assault on Glowno. Yet, his own reaction had been concern over the scouting reports on Walewice. The cavalry meant everything to him, it always had. This was their big moment. What the hell was wrong with him?
44
Douglas W. Jacobson
• • •
At 0215 the buglers gave the call to saddle the horses and, fi fteen minutes later, the call to mount and form up. Sitting astride his horse, Jan looked left and right across the lines. It was, indeed, an impressive force: six thousand horse-men grouped in tight regimental formations, sabers at the ready and standards rippling in the night breeze. His mare pawed the ground, and he turned in the saddle, glancing at Stefan, Peracki and his third squadron commander, Karol Bartkowicz. Stefan and Bartkowicz stared straight ahead. Peracki gave him a
“thumbs-up.”
At the front of the brigade Colonel Romanofski raised his saber. The buglers sounded the call to move out, and twenty-four thousand hooves pounded toward the Bzura valley. Jan leaned forward in the saddle, settling into the rhythm of the powerful horse. Invigorated by the rush of crisp night air, his anxiety about Anna faded, his fears of what lay ahead displaced by the sheer exhilaration of the moment.
The ground shook beneath the galloping horses as the brigade entered the fl at plains of the valley and separated into attack formations. The night was clear, the ground dry and hard having easily absorbed the short evening rain, and they made good time. The Twenty-ninth Uhlans arrived at their fi nal attack point just before 0300.
When Jan sighted the Bzura River, he brought the regiment to a halt. The map of the area and the tactical plan were etched in his mind. The Bzura River ran east–west at this point. On the other side, less than two kilometers farther south, was the village of
43
looked up, locking eyes with Jan. “Major Kopernik will lead the Twenty-ninth Uhlans into Walewice and secure it to block any escape of the Germans from Glowno.” Romanofski turned to a reconnaissance offi cer who was standing off to the side. “Kruzak, what do we know about Walewice?”
Kruzak coughed and produced a tattered notebook. “Our scouts have spotted a small contingent of German troops in the town. They’ve also gotten information from a few of the local farmers. No machine guns or artillery have been reported. We estimate it’s just a small unit—two or three rifl e platoons, probably not even on alert.”
“How old is this information?” Jan asked.
“Most of it is from late yesterday morning, twelve to fi fteen hours ago,”
Kruzak said.
“OK, that’s the situation,” Romanofski declared. “Jan, it sounds like these guys in Walewice are just sittin’ on their asses. Take the Twenty-ninth in there and secure it before they can radio any alarms. You’ll have surprise and darkness on your side so go in hard and fast. When you’ve got it secured, leave one squadron behind and head down the road to Glowno to cut off any Krauts trying to head north.”
Romanofski turned to the other four regimental offi cers. “The rest of the brigade will launch the main assault on Glowno.”
Jan only half listened. He wondered about twelve-hour-old scouting reports. Then put them out of his mind. They were all the information he was going to get.
When the briefi ng ended, Jan headed for the Twenty-ninth Uhlans’ staging area. Kapitan Lech Peracki, one of his squadron commanders, came up alongside him. “Shit, Jan, it sounds like we’re going to miss all the action.”
Jan glanced at the younger man. He was a good offi cer, perhaps a bit eager, but fearless in battle and completely dependable. “There’re plenty of Germans out there, Lech. We’ll get our chance.”
“I hope so,” Peracki said, with a grin. “We’ve chased the bastards halfway across the country.”
Jan watched as Peracki moved on, and thought about the exchange. He understood Peracki’s disappointment at not being part of the main assault on Glowno. Yet, his own reaction had been concern over the scouting reports on Walewice. The cavalry meant everything to him, it always had. This was their big moment. What the hell was wrong with him?
44
Douglas W. Jacobson
• • •
At 0215 the buglers gave the call to saddle the horses and, fi fteen minutes later, the call to mount and form up. Sitting astride his horse, Jan looked left and right across the lines. It was, indeed, an impressive force: six thousand horse-men grouped in tight regimental formations, sabers at the ready and standards rippling in the night breeze. His mare pawed the ground, and he turned in the saddle, glancing at Stefan, Peracki and his third squadron commander, Karol Bartkowicz. Stefan and Bartkowicz stared straight ahead. Peracki gave him a
“thumbs-up.”
At the front of the brigade Colonel Romanofski raised his saber. The buglers sounded the call to move out, and twenty-four thousand hooves pounded toward the Bzura valley. Jan leaned forward in the saddle, settling into the rhythm of the powerful horse. Invigorated by the rush of crisp night air, his anxiety about Anna faded, his fears of what lay ahead displaced by the sheer exhilaration of the moment.
The ground shook beneath the galloping horses as the brigade entered the fl at plains of the valley and separated into attack formations. The night was clear, the ground dry and hard having easily absorbed the short evening rain, and they made good time. The Twenty-ninth Uhlans arrived at their fi nal attack point just before 0300.
When Jan sighted the Bzura River, he brought the regiment to a halt. The map of the area and the tactical plan were etched in his mind. The Bzura River ran east–west at this point. On the other side, less than two kilometers farther south, was the village of
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