who’d previously been under Karl Brucker’s command.
This group had placed themselves almost noticeably apart from the hundred or so other SS soldiers who’d assembled outside of the ghetto that had been formed on the edge of an already wretched-looking Polish town. (The name of which was quite unpronounceable to Mayer and the others.)
A large gate set within the high, barbed-wire fences surrounding this ghetto was open, while a number of the old, sagging buildings were on fire and smoking.
Bodies of slain men and women lay here and there, shabbily-dressed, alongside a few of them some crude, handmade weapons.
‘So they’ve been keeping the poor bastards stored away in here, then,’ remarked Bach quietly.
‘Looks that way,’ nodded Mayer. ‘Now they want to move them somewhere, and – Well, they’ve managed to get or make some weapons and they’re fighting back…’
Ackermann’s unit had received the radioed order to come and assist with the attempted clearance of this ghetto several hours earlier. As they’d been only a few kilometers away, they’d been able to come relatively quickly, some of the SS men sat on top of the three Panzer tanks.
But now, for some reason, all the assembled SS units (in reality a ragbag group of scruffy, hollow-eyed men, plus a few tanks that had little shells or fuel remaining) were being ordered to hold back.
The two excursions made into the ghetto so far had cost the German force a surprisingly large number of casualties – the reason why several soldiers lay on the ground near Mayer and the others, their bullet wounds causing them to sweat and curse…
But they were at least alive, unlike the corpses of five SS men lying elsewhere.
‘But where would these people even be moved… to?’ asked Bach quietly.
The others shrugged, and avoided looking at one another.
‘Not our concern, Bach,’ said Mayer finally. ‘We’ve just got to go in there and try and get them out, next time the order’s given.’
‘Shaping up to be a hell of a job, even with the basic weapons those Jews in there have got,’ observed the radioman Amsel. ‘They’ve dug tunnels and are hiding down in them. Women fighting as hard as the men – even some of the children…’
His words again caused the four SS men to look down at the ground, as though they felt ashamed.
‘Shouldn’t even be here,’ muttered Weber finally. ‘Just let these people get on with it, and get ourselves back to Germany.’
Mayer glanced with narrow eyes over to where Ackermann was stood.
The sole leader of their unit – now that Brucker was gone – appeared to be having a slightly ‘animated’ conversation with another officer, although neither Mayer nor the three others could hear what was being discussed.
‘He wants to get in there, I guess,’ growled Mayer, who then spat on the ground again. ‘Him and his men – get those buildings really burning; shoot a few of those poor bastards who’ve been virtually starving to death here in this… place.
‘But he probably doesn’t quite like the odds, yet – wants to make sure some more reinforcements arrive first…’
Mayer’s voice then fell into silence, as he and the three other men sat in the small group exchanged uneasy glances.
‘So we are officially waiting for reinforcements, then?’ asked Bach quietly.
‘Not sure,’ returned Mayer. ‘All I know is – ’
Mayer’s words were cut off by the sudden arrival of a huge military lorry. Its brakes squealed as it came to a stop near the four seated men. The driver – dressed in a smart grey uniform noticeably different to the shabby camouflaged overalls the SS troops were wearing – jumped down from his seat, and saluted Ackermann and the other officer as they walked over.
Some words were exchanged – again, Mayer and the others couldn’t hear what these were – and then the driver
This group had placed themselves almost noticeably apart from the hundred or so other SS soldiers who’d assembled outside of the ghetto that had been formed on the edge of an already wretched-looking Polish town. (The name of which was quite unpronounceable to Mayer and the others.)
A large gate set within the high, barbed-wire fences surrounding this ghetto was open, while a number of the old, sagging buildings were on fire and smoking.
Bodies of slain men and women lay here and there, shabbily-dressed, alongside a few of them some crude, handmade weapons.
‘So they’ve been keeping the poor bastards stored away in here, then,’ remarked Bach quietly.
‘Looks that way,’ nodded Mayer. ‘Now they want to move them somewhere, and – Well, they’ve managed to get or make some weapons and they’re fighting back…’
Ackermann’s unit had received the radioed order to come and assist with the attempted clearance of this ghetto several hours earlier. As they’d been only a few kilometers away, they’d been able to come relatively quickly, some of the SS men sat on top of the three Panzer tanks.
But now, for some reason, all the assembled SS units (in reality a ragbag group of scruffy, hollow-eyed men, plus a few tanks that had little shells or fuel remaining) were being ordered to hold back.
The two excursions made into the ghetto so far had cost the German force a surprisingly large number of casualties – the reason why several soldiers lay on the ground near Mayer and the others, their bullet wounds causing them to sweat and curse…
But they were at least alive, unlike the corpses of five SS men lying elsewhere.
‘But where would these people even be moved… to?’ asked Bach quietly.
The others shrugged, and avoided looking at one another.
‘Not our concern, Bach,’ said Mayer finally. ‘We’ve just got to go in there and try and get them out, next time the order’s given.’
‘Shaping up to be a hell of a job, even with the basic weapons those Jews in there have got,’ observed the radioman Amsel. ‘They’ve dug tunnels and are hiding down in them. Women fighting as hard as the men – even some of the children…’
His words again caused the four SS men to look down at the ground, as though they felt ashamed.
‘Shouldn’t even be here,’ muttered Weber finally. ‘Just let these people get on with it, and get ourselves back to Germany.’
Mayer glanced with narrow eyes over to where Ackermann was stood.
The sole leader of their unit – now that Brucker was gone – appeared to be having a slightly ‘animated’ conversation with another officer, although neither Mayer nor the three others could hear what was being discussed.
‘He wants to get in there, I guess,’ growled Mayer, who then spat on the ground again. ‘Him and his men – get those buildings really burning; shoot a few of those poor bastards who’ve been virtually starving to death here in this… place.
‘But he probably doesn’t quite like the odds, yet – wants to make sure some more reinforcements arrive first…’
Mayer’s voice then fell into silence, as he and the three other men sat in the small group exchanged uneasy glances.
‘So we are officially waiting for reinforcements, then?’ asked Bach quietly.
‘Not sure,’ returned Mayer. ‘All I know is – ’
Mayer’s words were cut off by the sudden arrival of a huge military lorry. Its brakes squealed as it came to a stop near the four seated men. The driver – dressed in a smart grey uniform noticeably different to the shabby camouflaged overalls the SS troops were wearing – jumped down from his seat, and saluted Ackermann and the other officer as they walked over.
Some words were exchanged – again, Mayer and the others couldn’t hear what these were – and then the driver
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