The 12th of January, 1945, a date marked in blood, sweat, snow and strife. At the height of the Unternehmen Wacht am Rhein, known to the Allies as the Ardennes Counteroffensive the meeting armies had been locked into a frozen stalemate, enduring the weather as well as the skirmishes that each pitted against the other. The rising blizzards and razor-like winds could cut down even the most stalwart of soldiers, as easily as a bullet could. Both grizzled soldiers of the Wehrmacht and the Allies endured as they waited along their respective lines, waiting for the time that they would be called to either charge forward, or repel the next attack.
The 13th of January, 1945 found the region blanketed in billowy, white mist as fresh snow started to fall from the heavens. Fresh reinforcements from the east were able to find the German lines with relative success, although several squads and even a platoon had gotten lost albeit temporarily. Other squads weren’t so lucky, deemed lost to the storm until the snow let up. The commanders of the Heer planned, and set contingencies as another platoon was lost to the foul weather,
A total of three halftracks and one cargo truck had been waylaid by the storm, diverting north along the conflicting lines. Oberleutnant Tabor, sitting in the front-most vehicle, pressed his platoon forward in the hopes that he would eventually come across the German lines and deploy his troops, as well as the needed supplies in time to best help his comrades. Every soldier in the other halftracks, sitting within the backs of the Sd.Kfz. 251 Hanomags had time to think of what was to come when they did find their brothers in arms.
“I swear, this fog is as thick as pea soup,” Gefreiter Koen had said aloud as Unteroffizier Rald twisted the steering wheel to follow the Oberleutnant’s kübelwagen as it hooked left along the road. “What, this is the fourth time we’ve nearly lost them?”
“You’re telling me,” Oberfusilier Dietz replied as he looked up from the map of the region. “I can’t tell if we’re still heading west or not.”
Koen grimaced as he returned his attention to the road, watching the kübelwagen slip into the mist once again before he pushed his boot against the accelerator, closing the distance just enough to bring it back into view. Dietz glanced back towards the passenger section of the halftrack, just in time to see one of the soldiers tap at the canvas covering to work the snow off of the top. A few were smoking the few cigarettes they had, others were talking and the rest were catching whatever sleep the bumpy ride could allow them.
Dietz turned back to the map before looking out of the passenger viewport. “Did you lose them again,” he sighed, glancing towards Koen. “You lost them again, didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t, they’re right there,” Koen snapped before motioning forward. “I can still see them, now shut up.”
Dietz looked out the port before looking back at Koen. “No, they’re not there. You lost them again!”
“Shut your mouth,” Koen growled before noticing movement from ahead of the hanomag. He stomped on the brakes and the halftrack came to a grinding halt, much to the infinite displeasure of the passengers in back as they lurched forward. Dietz’s skull nearly bounced off of the front controls, only a quick motion from his hands saved him from having a headache for the rest of the day.
“Aah, what was that for,” Dietz groaned as he sat up straight, turning to look at Koen as he practically pressed his face against the view port, looking for something only he could see. “You almost broke my nose, Koen!”
“I thought I saw something, sorry,” Koen sat back down and looked at Koen before looking at the soldiers in back. “Is everyone ok back there?”
The general response was in the affirmative as Koen eased his boot down onto the accelerator, pushing the halftrack forward through the falling snow. It was quiet from then on, save for the grumble of the engine as the convoy moved forward, trailing behind Oberleutnant Tobor and his kübel. His vehicle was found some time afterwards, sitting in front of a farm house. The convoy came to a stop and the platoon of Wehrmacht soldiers filed out onto the roadway.
Unteroffizier Rald and two other soldiers headed to the farmhouse as the rest of the soldiers formed a defensive perimeter. Obergrenadier Heller stayed near the farmhouse’s door, waiting for the other two to return. Edel walked out first, glancing at Heller as he walked towards the Oberleutnant’s vehicle while Rald stopped next to Heller, muttering something before looking at Edel.
“I can’t find any tracks, sir,” Edel called out.
Rald nodded slowly before stepping down from the farmhouse’s porch and heading for the head halftrack, finding Koen waiting with his MP40 in one hand, a cigarette hanging from his lips.
“Did you see Oberleutnant Tobor enter the house, or his assistant,” Rald asked quietly, keeping his gaze from the other men.
Koen shook his head as he snubbed the cigarette. “No, Unteroffizier, I did not. I saw his kübel parked out front and stopped because it was stopped too,” he looked back towards the officer’s car before looking at Rald. “Is he in the house, sir?”
Rald gritted his teeth for a moment before taking a cigarette from Koen’s pack. “No, he wasn’t. He could have walked off, but I don’t know why he would do that.”
Koen glanced over the hood of the halftrack to the house before looking back at Rald. “Didn’t Edel say he couldn’t find any tracks?”
“Yes, but it’s also snowing. Unless some American grabbed him from thin air he could have walked off and the snow could have filled in the boot prints.” Rald took a puff off of the cigarette before handing it back to Koen. “Keep the engine warm.”
Koen nodded and saluted as Rald walked off towards the house, waving the other soldiers over. Dietz walked over as Rald started to issue orders, lighting his own cigarette before watching the men head out.
“So, what’s going on,” Dietz asked after a while. “Where’s the Oberleutnant?”
“We don’t know,” Koen snubbed the cigarette but didn’t reach for a third. “They’re going to look for him but I think Unteroffizier Rald is going to have us head out soon.”
“Head out? Without the Oberleutnant?”
Koen shrugged and headed around the back of the halftrack before clambering in and sitting in the driver’s seat, picking up the map where Dietz had left it and flipping the ignition. He looked back at Dietz, who was looking at him from the back of the halftrack. “He said to keep the engine warm, go and tell the other drivers, ok?”
Dietz nodded and walked off as Koen turned back around and traced a finger over the map. After a few seconds he had come up with the undeniable fact that they were lost. There were no landmarks to get a bearing off of, and the compass he kept in the Hanomag didn’t seem to want to make up its mind on if it was pointing north or south, given how it kept turning, stopping and then turning again. He looked back at the map before tossing both onto Dietz’s seat, tapping the accelerator pedal to keep the gas going into the engine.
It wasn’t long before Dietz clambered into the halftrack and the rest of the soldiers took their positions in the back, shutting the door. Koen looked back at them before looking at Dietz. “What happened?”
“Unteroffizier Rald and the search party couldn’t find the Oberlutnant, He wants us to move out until we can find the next village.”
“What about the kübel?”
“It won’t start. The engine’s iced over, I think. Come on, get this thing into gear!”
Koen nodded and the halftrack lurched forward, leading the convoy forward, past the farmhouse and past the abandoned vehicle that Oberleutnant Tobor had been driving. It seemed so surreal that the Oberleutnant was missing, being one of the biggest sticklers for rules and staying together that had ever been seen in the 7th Army of the Heer, even before the operation and stalemate began. Somehow, the fog seemed thicker and the snow heavier without him.
The halftrack’s engine groaned, almost in a labored manner as it pushed through the snow. More than once it seemed that it would finally keel over and stall for good, but somehow it kept going, running like the stalwart old woman that Koen and Dietz thought it would have been. Dietz had even jokingly referred to the Hanomag as “Der bärtige Dame“, if only for the white-washed forest camoflauge that had been painted along the armor.
It felt like an hour had passed before the first sections of fencing had been seen through the viewports and after that buildings melted out of the mist. Koen parked the halftrack along the street and the soldiers filed out before he and Dietz got out as well, grabbing their MP40s along the way. Rald quickly set about to getting the men organized and moving, first squad going to secure the houses along the street nearest the convoy, second squad to keep cover towards the other line of houses. Once the houses were cleared out the men set to getting the gear from the halftracks and the two Opel Blitz trucks inside.
The munitions and weapons were scattered evenly, mortars, rifles, rockets for the towed Nebelwerfer 41 and shells for the Pak 36 housed in the basements while grenades, bullets and anything else that was suitable for guard duty was set on the ground and second floors. From the three houses that were apropriated, there was plenty of room for everyone.
Unteroffizier Rald was quick to organize a pair of scouting parties as well, to verify what village they were in and to search for the seemingly absent vilalgers. Obergrenadier Heller was set to lead one scout team while Overfusilier Dietz was given the lead for the other. The rest of the men were content to stay inside where it was warmer, save for those put on sentry duty.
Rald took his field cap off and ran a hand through his hair as he checked his watch for the fifth time since the teams had left. It had been two hours since they vanished into the mist- which showed no sign of thinning out- with no sight nor smell of them since then. He paced to and fro along one of the bedrooms on the second floor, debating if another team should be sent out ot search for the men or if they were better to wait. The men downstairs and even in the other bedrooms were as happy as they could have been, talking amongst one-another and basking in the warmth of the house from the wood-burning stoves.
It wasn’t long before he made up his mind as the mist started to darken. He grabbed his rifle and headed downstairs, intending to lead the search for the scout parties. The second his boot touched the ground floor the front door opened and the six men he appointed filed in, almost completely covered in flakes of dry snow. He waited for Heller and Dietz to tell them what they found, noticing one of the soldiers take their helmet off, shaking their head free of snow while their hair stayed an unusual white hue.
The soldiers quickly went about their business, the first shift setting up for guard duty, the rest intending to enjoy their time before they were deemed required for the next shift, finding beds, chairs and whatever provisions they could scrounge from their packs. The white-haired warrior, a seeming exception to this rule, found their way into the cellar and sat down against the wall, resting their rifle on their lap before they closed their eyes.
