THE LAST GOOD WAR: A Novel (11 page)

“But what about the British?” asked Sisi. The gravity of the crisis was beginning to sink in.

“Their pledges are ludicrous. The Chief of the Imperial General Staff, Ironside, promises to match any air raids on us—one for one—with similar raids on Germany. Just a few weeks ago, when diplomats were trying to put together a broad Soviet-Western alliance to stop Hitler, Stalin lost interest when he came to the conclusion that the Western countries weren't serious. The feckless French and the bumbling Brits.”

Once again, everybody looked distinctly uncomfortable.

“There is, however, a glimmer of hope,” Uncle Michal added. “If we can get through the next three or four weeks without an invasion, we may make it. It will be too late for Hitler; he'll have little hope of defeating us before the bad weather.”

Uncle Michal didn't add his main worry. If Hitler really was after
Lebensraum
—if he wanted somewhere for the expanding German population to live—he might drive Poles out of their country. He might even start killing civilians to encourage the survivors to flee eastward. A fight with Germany would be bloody, but surrender might be even bloodier.

Anna felt a rising terror, taking with it any lingering doubts about the value of her codebreaking exercise. And she felt panic for Kaz. She needed the reassurance of holding him; she had had quite enough of the depressing conversation. As soon as Kaz was through his main course, Anna made her excuses and the newlyweds retired.

The next morning, she was floating in a dreamy, semiconscious state, cuddling in Kaz's arms, when she became vaguely aware of Sisi practicing the piano in the distance. First it was one of Chopin's etudes; then Beethoven's
Für Elise
. She wasn't satisfied with her treatment of the opening bars; she repeated them over and over again. Suddenly, Anna was wide awake. "That's it!” She said, sitting up abruptly in bed. "Repeats. Repeats. That's the secret.”

“Secret? Repeats?” said Kaz groggily, only half awake.

“Repeats, darling, repeats,” she said, leaning over and kissing him. Somehow, Kaz didn't care what “repeats” meant. There was no temptation for Anna to break her vow of secrecy.

What the codebreakers needed was a message that the Germans had repeated, using two different encryptions. Then they might be able to figure out the wheel settings.

The next evening, with Kaz gone, Anna thought she might have difficulty sleeping. But as she threw open the window, the smell of new-mown hay produced a wave of nostalgia. Its soporific, relaxing effect lulled her into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Once again, she was wakened by sounds in the distance—this time, much further away. There was a strange, intermittent sound of sirens, and what seemed like explosions. She was about to go to the window, to see what was causing the noise, but just as her feet touched the floor, Sisi burst through the bedroom door.

"The Germans are attacking. All military personnel have to report at once. Josef is leaving for the station. If you hurry, you'll have time to say goodbye."

Anna threw a dressing gown over her shoulders and followed her sister down to the front steps. Josef was hugging his mother; tears were flowing freely down her cheeks. They were also flowing, not quite so freely, down Josef's cheeks. Then he turned to Anna with a big hug.

"Until we meet again," he said softly in her ear. "But I'm afraid, Anna, I'm afraid. I hope that we were wrong the other night, when we said all those unkind things about Britain and France. We need help. I'll be praying for Kaz.” He gave Anna a big squeeze, stepped into the Mercedes, and was gone. He didn't look back.

8
Last Stand

Give no quarter! Take no prisoners! Just as, a thousand years ago, the
Huns under Attila gained a name that still resounds in terror, so may the name of Germany resound!

Kaiser Wilhelm II, addressing troops leaving for China, 1900

A
s ordered, Kaz and Jan left their comrades to the defense of Poznan and headed eastward toward Warsaw. With them were about 65 men, 40 horses, two heavy machine guns, several mortars, one mobile field radio, and miscellaneous light weapons and carts. They could only hope that heavier weapons—most of all, artillery—would be available when they got to the defensive positions west of Warsaw.

As long as they rode along back roads, their trip was uneventful, although, on occasion, they did have to scurry into the woods as German planes flew overhead. When they got to the main highway, however, progress became much more difficult. The road and shoulders were crowded with swarms of refugees. The confusion periodically degenerated into panicked chaos, as low-flying German fighters attacked. Because of the crowds, soldiers had trouble finding cover, and horses reared in terror as the planes flew over, their machine guns chattering.

By evening, a new pattern was developing: the Germans were strafing the sides of the roads rather than the road itself. As a result, civilians were crowding even more tightly onto the road, obstructing the military units and forcing them to leave the road in an effort to move more rapidly. It made no sense to go on this way, with the cavalry being held up by the chaos on the road. The time had come to divide the small force once again. One group would take most of the horses and head across country, while the other group, with the machine guns, other equipment, and wounded would continue down the crowded road, traveling mainly at night.

Jan and Kaz drew straws; Kaz got the group that would break away across the open country. Before parting, they warmed up the radio. The news was depressing, but not hopeless. A major defensive force was gathering around Poznan, and the fortifications around Warsaw were being strengthened as many army units retreated in a more-or-less orderly way toward the capital. Britain and France had declared war on Germany. The time had come to pray for a French thrust into Germany, to force Hitler to shift army and Luftwaffe units to the west.

Kaz and his group of 35 set out immediately; there was still enough daylight to travel rapidly, and German air activity had almost ceased with the oncoming dusk. They made remarkably good time for the first hour, but then had to slow down because of the gathering darkness. Kaz set out his plan for the most rapid movement eastward: they would travel at top speed, and as directly across country as possible, during the periods when there was enough light for horsemen, but not enough for German aircraft—for almost an hour at dusk, and a briefer period each morning, beginning with the first glimmer of light. Where they had the protection of forests, they would continue to move during the day. Otherwise, they would rest and let their horses graze, and move during the night instead.

After two days and nights, they reached and crossed the Bzura River—about 50 kilometers west of Warsaw—and were greeted by a group of Polish infantrymen. This, they were told, was where they would make a stand.

As the German tanks approached, the Polish plan was to direct artillery fire over the river at the Panzers, and to use all available weapons to disrupt any attempt by the Germans to cross. On the flanks, infantry and cavalry would probe. The infantry would seek out and destroy German infantry units unprotected by tanks or heavy artillery; the cavalry's objective would be to disrupt and destroy German supply lines, while avoiding German armored units.

The Polish attack began on Sept. 9. Kaz and Jan—who had survived a five-day ordeal along the main road—would each lead a marauding band of about 30 men; they had picked up reinforcements from other cavalry units. Kaz and his men crossed the river before dawn, and galloped west-northwest about ten kilometers. They then began to proceed, more slowly, in a leftward arc, searching for Germans.

They were in luck. As they proceeded along the edge of a hardwood forest—for protection against air attack—they spotted a convoy of a dozen German trucks, accompanied by half a dozen soldiers on motorcycles. Moving up behind two low hills, the Poles set up their light machine guns and small mortars. They would fire at the Germans as they came around a bend in the road.

Their attack could not have worked better. The machine gunners made quick work of the motorcyclists, and mortars soon had the first and last of the trucks on fire, making it impossible for any of the others to move. As troops dismounted from trucks, they were attacked with machine-gun fire. Then the third truck erupted in a spectacular explosion; apparently it had been filled with ammunition. Another truck exploded, less spectacularly, but continued to burn with the dark, greasy smoke of diesel fuel.

The Poles continued to fire for another five minutes; by then, there was little left of the German column. A number of survivors had escaped into the woods on the far side of the road, but it would be foolish to pursue them. Kaz ordered his men to pack their weapons and retreat towards the woods on their side of the road.

It was none too soon. Just as they had mounted and begun to move, they heard the terrifying sound of a Stuka's siren as it began its dive. The riders scattered; an explosion erupted on the side of the hill as a German bomb hit the ground. Kaz's men were far enough separated that there were only two fatalities, with the men and their horses being thrown into the air. After leveling out, the plane began a sharp turn; it was going to return and attack the fleeing Poles with machine guns. Fortunately, Kaz and his men reached the safety of the woods before the Stuka could complete its turn.

The surviving cavalrymen reassembled in the protection of the woods. Other than the two dead men, they had escaped unscathed, but had lost one of their machine guns. They waited in the woods for about half an hour, fearful of a follow-up air attack, but then continued along the side of the woods, looking for additional victims.

That day, they found none. Early the next morning, as they were passing a small village, a horseback rider galloped up.

“Germans are in the village,” he said breathlessly. “You're our only hope.”

Kaz was torn. But he had his orders. “I'm sorry, friend, but we have a specific mission. We can't go into villages the Germans have already occupied.”

“But the Germans have taken hostages. They may shoot them. They're just young boys.”

H
elmut Krueger joined the SS at eighteen. He wanted to show those high-school snobs that he really was better than any of them. His few friends considered the SS the best, the most elite unit, a military force directly answerable to the National Socialist Party. He felt a secret thrill every time he looked at his solid black uniform. The skull on his cap—indicating he was a member of a
Totenkopf
or Death's Head Regiment—signified Hitler's will: this elite unit was the arbiter of life and death. After rigorous training, both military and political, he recommitted himself to the Nazi Party and received his commission. Within a few months, he was promoted to
Obersturmführer
, the SS equivalent of the regular army rank of
Oberleutnant
(First Lieutenant).

As war clouds gathered, he was indoctrinated with the ideas of the Führer. Hitler would crush the Bolsheviks in Russia and save Western civilization. Just how the murder of civilians would save “civilization,” Hitler did not say; and the young officers, mesmerized by their Führer, had no inclination to ask.

Hitler blamed Jews for Germany's humiliating defeat in the First World War, for stabbing the armed forces in the back. In his crude view of history, Jewish-led revolts caused a collapse on the home front. To the men in the trenches—including Corporal Adolf Hitler—the shock of defeat was particularly painful, coming, as it did, so soon after the glorious victories of early 1918. They needed a scapegoat.

Shortly after the invasion of Poland, SS Chief Reinhard Heydrich met with his officers to underline their duty:

“As the army advances, you will move in to pacify the population. Any act of resistance must be dealt with ruthlessly, without mercy. You have authority to execute civilians summarily, without trial. The regular army is forbidden to interfere. Jews, gypsies, priests, bishops, and the Polish nobility are your first targets.”

Krueger steeled himself for the test ahead. It soon came.

His men entered a small town about 70 kilometers west of Warsaw, just as the regular army was moving out. Two quick shots were fired from the church steeple; one of the soldiers fell to the ground, blood spurting from the side of his head. The army commander could not stop to find the sniper; his orders were to move eastward as quickly as possible. It was up to Krueger to deal with the assassin.

Krueger ordered two of his men to circle around to the back of the church and climb the stairs to the steeple. They were soon back, with a pimple-faced 15-year old and an ancient rifle. Krueger then ordered another four of his men to search the church. Within five minutes, two dozen boy scouts emerged with their hands in the air. Behind them was a priest with hands folded in front of his body. Behind were the SS troopers, bayonets fixed. They had interrupted a scout meeting in the basement; the Poles were trying to carry on with their normal lives.

Krueger ordered the two dozen scouts and the priest lined up along the side of the church. A private bound the hands of the young sniper and held him on the ground, off to one side, a pistol to the back of his head. A few villagers were beginning to assemble in the street. Krueger instructed his Polish-speaking sergeant to shout a proclamation:

People of Poland. You are now under the rule of the German Reich. Any resistance will be crushed. A German's life is worth twenty Poles. Those attacking German soldiers will be shot. To even the score, so will their friends and relatives. In this case, the lives of the boy scouts are forfeit. The boy who killed our soldier will be shot last. He will live just long enough to see the consequences of his act. Anyone attempting to interfere will be shot.

Thereupon, five of Krueger's men turned toward the villagers on the street, lowering their rifles, bayonets fixed. In a panic, one of the boy scouts tried to escape. He rushed to get around the corner of the church, but was shot before he could take more than a dozen steps. Six other soldiers opened fire immediately, killing first the boys at the ends of the line, then working their way toward the middle.