Ardennes Sniper: A World War II Thriller

CHAPTER 11

"Look at that smoke," Vaccaro said, nodding to a dark spiral against the gray sky. "The Krauts are up there torching something. I feel sorry for the poor bastards they caught up with."

"They must have slowed down. The way they've been moving, I thought they would be back in Paris by now."

For the past hour, the snipers had been following the tracks left by the German column. The passage of the heavy panzers and trucks had broken through the crust of frozen snow and mud and churned up the road, which was now a muddy swath through the snowy countryside. As much as possible, the snipers kept out of the mud and walked in the fields in hopes of keeping their boots dry, but it wasn't always possible where the road narrowed.

"We don't even need Cole to track these bastards," Vaccaro said. "My grandma could follow this column, and she's half blind and fat as a pickle barrel."

Although they were on foot, there was a chance they might catch the rear of the advancing German column. The slower vehicles, and those that became bogged down in the mud, would be left behind. One thing was clear, however, which was that the Germans were more interested in advancing than in holding any territory. So far, they hadn't left any forces behind.

Aside from the mud, the smoke was the first sign that there were Germans up ahead. There hadn't been so much as the sound of a gunshot since they had left the massacre site, which meant the German column was advancing unopposed.

Lieutenant Mulholland stopped and nodded at the spiral of smoke. The smoke was not straight ahead but slightly to their right, indicating that the road ahead turned sharply. "If we angle across these fields, I'll bet we can come out ahead of these Germans."

"And do what, sir?" Vaccaro asked.

"Ambush them."

"Uh, they've got tanks, sir. All we've got are rifles. These are like BB guns against a King Tiger tank."

"We aren't trying to take out the tanks, Vaccaro, but their operators. It's time we started paying those bastards back for what they did at Malmedy."

"I can't argue with that, sir."

The lieutenant turned to Cole. "What are you thinking?"

Cole appeared to turn it over for a moment, then slowly nodded as he looked across the whitened fields and woods. Unlike the lieutenant, he possessed an internal compass that gave him an uncanny sense of the landscape. "I think it's a good plan, Lieutenant. It's a sight better than trailing along on their ass end. Even if we don't get out ahead of them, we'll come right out beside them. These Nazi bastards are probably thinking they've won the war already. Let's teach them different."

Mulholland looked at Jolie. "Can you keep up, Miss Molyneaux?"

"I would walk to the moon for a chance to stop these Nazis who want to get back into France."

"All right, let's do it. You lead the way, Cole."

They left the road and started across the fields. It was better than trying to pick their way around the muddy ruts left by the Germans, but the footing was challenging in its own way. Beyond the shelter of the trees and hedges that lined the road, the cold wind and blowing snow cut at their exposed faces. The new snow was just a few inches deep, but it lay atop an older layer of snow that had crusted over, so that every few paces they broke through the crust and sank shin deep in snow.

Cole soon found that in the lee of the low stone walls the snow was thin, barely covering the frozen ground. He led the snipers single file, following the stone walls that crossed the fields like the seams of a patchwork quilt. Up ahead, the column of smoke darkened and spread across the sky. Whatever was burning was really rolling now, sending up billowing smoke. It was likely that the Germans would be moving on soon. The snipers needed to hurry if they hoped to get ahead of the enemy.

Cole broke into a trot. It wasn't a full-out run, but a long-legged lope that would have been familiar to a coyote — or a mountain bootlegger. With Cole setting the pace, the others struggled to keep up.

A soldier in the field carried a variety of gear, and the snipers were no different. They were laden with mess kits, cleaning kits for their rifles, spare ammo, and a dozen other items in their haversacks and in their pockets — or hanging off their utility belts. It was a lot of weight to lug, considering they were already weighed down with winter clothing.

What was noticeable was that despite all the gear they carried, the men ran almost silently. A unit of green troops would have clanked and rattled as the things they carried banged together with each step. Men who had been in the field long enough knew that to stay quiet — to stay alive — it was important to tie everything down. And with the Kid and Jolie not really carrying any gear, the only real sound was their breathing and the crunch of old snow under their boots.

Despite the cold, sweat soon ran from their armpits and down the backs of their necks. Later on, they would feel damp and cold as a result. But for now, the objective was to get out ahead of the German column.

They ran for a couple of miles until they reached the edge of the road. Cole’s shortcut across the road had worked. Cole hunkered down behind a stone wall and waited for the others to catch up.

Off to their left, the road ran toward the village, and they could see the flames now from the burning building.

After he had caught his breath, Lieutenant Mulholland got out his binoculars. "Looks like our friends set fire to a tavern. But their column hasn't left the village yet. We got here ahead of them." Mulholland put down the binoculars and grinned. "You know what Nathan Bedford Forrest used to say, 'Get there firstest with the mostest.' "

"I reckon we are firstest," Cole said. "But we sure as hell ain't mostest."

"We'll see about that," Mulholland said. He nodded at a thicket of trees off to their right that surrounded the road like a bead around a string. The trees were thick enough to create a bottleneck for the German column — they would have to follow the road through the woods. Also, a deep ravine paralleled much of the road, creating even more challenging terrain. On the other side of the thicket, the road emptied out into wide open fields, punctuated here and there by deserted farmhouses. An ancient stone barn located several hundred yards from the road was the largest visible structure. "If we take up positions in that field beyond the woods, we can pick off the Germans as they come out of the trees."

"Not a lot of cover for us."

"There are some hedgerows we can get into, and plenty more stone walls. That should give us enough cover. We’ll be all right. You lead the way again."

Cole was skeptical. These were SS panzers they were going against. “If you say so.”

Cole slipped over the stone wall and ran down toward the road. Fortunately, the Germans were confident enough that they had not sent scouts ahead. Soon, the sniper squad was running down the road and into the woods.

The trees seemed to close in around them, sucking the light from the winter air. It was such a silent, gloomy place. They ran on. The woods stretched for half a mile, and then they emerged on that open field — and kept running.

Lieutenant Mulholland brought the squad to a halt. He pointed Rowe and McNulty toward a hedgerow. "You two take up positions in there. Once the Germans are out in the open, let them have it. Try to pick off the tank drivers. When it gets too hot, get the hell out — we'll regroup by that barn over there. These Jerries are in a hurry to get somewhere and they're not going to bother chasing after a few snipers."

"Yes, sir."

"One last thing. Let Cole shoot first. Don't fire until he does."

"Why the hell not?" Rowe asked.

"Because he's got good instincts. You, you're just a good shot. There's a difference." The lieutenant turned toward Jolie. "Listen, I want you to—"

"I will go with Cole," Jolie announced.

"All right," he said. If he wasn't happy about that idea, he was trying hard to hide it. He handed Hank his binoculars, "Kid, you stick with me. I can use a spotter."

"All I've got is this pistol."

"Don't worry, Kid. We aren't going to let the Germans get that close."

The snipers spread out through the field, taking up positions. There wasn't time to set up a real hide before the Germans came at them, so they would simply have to rely on the natural camouflage around them.

Back toward the village, smoke still filled the sky from the burning tavern. The countryside was no longer silent. Instead, the frigid air trembled with the rumble of distant engines. The German column was on the move, headed right for them.