Red Devils

12

Lieutenants Parker and Coley, along with Gunderson and Escobedo, had escaped Bastogne by the skin of their teeth. Swarms of dead civilians and soldiers pursued them through the ruins and out into the surrounding countryside, but had been distracted en masse by another engagement further north. It must have been a big fight, Coley thought to himself. He could feel the detonations shaking the ground they moved over, felt the dull roar of battle in his belly.

It was cold and unforgiving out here, enough to make Escobedo almost wish he was back in Bastogne again in their hideout on high, shielded from the wind. ‘Reckon we should hole up somewhere soon, sirs? Can’t feel my feet…’

‘Quit complaining, Escobedo,’ Parker told him.

Coley held his arm up to stop them all. ‘Movement. In the trees due east,’ he hissed. It didn’t look like much – no more than a couple of men at most – but they weren’t about to take any chances. ‘You and Gunderson follow the tree-line,’ he said to Parker. ‘Me and Escobedo will loop round through the forest, try and come up from behind them.’

Parker nodded. He held way back with Gunderson then moved slowly forward, giving the other pair time to take up position.

The closer they got, the less concerned they were of attack. There was a jeep wedged up against the upended root of a recently felled tree. And the movement Coley had seen from a distance? It looked like there was a man down. An American at that. Coley ran to his fellow serviceman’s aid, but pulled up fast. The poor bastard wasn’t lying on the ground alongside the jeep, he was under it. His pelvis had been crushed under its wheels and it was clear that he’d been deliberately mowed down. He’d been there a while (they could tell from the dried blood and his unnatural pallor) but when he became aware of the others approaching, the trapped GI began to thrash furiously.

Gunderson took him out with a knife to the back of his head, affording him what little dignity he could.

The jeep – once they’d disentangled it from the tree roots and the remains of the American soldier – gave them an unexpected boost. The area of countryside through which they travelled was quiet. There was a moment of concern when they spied the outline of a Panzer up ahead, but it was a wreck. Burned out and full of corpses.

They came across another couple of GIs on the road to the front. They looked exhausted and beaten; barely able to keep their heads up, it seemed to take all the effort they could muster for them to just keep breathing and keep moving. ‘Give you boys a lift somewhere?’ Lieutenant Parker asked as they drew level.

‘Much appreciated, sir,’ the older of the two replied. ‘Guess we’re all heading in the same direction. I’m Hooper, and this here is Stacey. Stacey don’t say much at the moment. He’s seen too much if you ask me. Though I’m guessing we probably all have by now.’

‘Hop in,’ said Parker, and they did. Escobedo hung off the back of the jeep, allowing Hooper and Stacey to sit, squeezed up alongside Gunderson’s bulk.

For half an hour or more the drive was deceptively peaceful. Six men, none of them with much to say to the others, grateful for a little rest and relaxation before the inevitable onslaught. Conversation was sparse. It was just good to have a little headspace. They all knew it wouldn’t last long.

Frost and snow obscured much of the things they knew were there but didn’t want to see. Bodies frozen solid were all but hidden in drifts. The wreck of an overturned Howitzer looked almost like a piece of sculpted ice in the fading light.

They heard the front before they saw it. Smelt it. Felt it, even.

The jeep was dumped when it ran out of fuel, leaving them with a short march to the battle-lines. The chaos and killing they’d briefly escaped, the destruction and devastation, the pain and suffering …all returned in a heartbeat.

Wave after wave after wave of the undead.

Fearless.

Unstoppable.

Tens of thousands of them.

The chatter in the ranks was rife:

‘There ain’t barely anything left of the 106th.’

‘I heard they was attacking us ten to a man out west. Those damn things were fighting with each other to get a piece of our boys.’

‘There was a whole host of them trapped under the Sherman, and they were still trying to come at us.’

‘I ain’t never seen so many krauts in one place, and all of them were coming at us. Don’t know how the hell we got out of there alive. Plenty of guys didn’t.’

Coley stopped by the stores to refresh and reload, then headed back out to war.