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Bernie didn’t respond, alarmed by an image he was picking up in the rearview mirror.
The moment the MPs opened a path, Gra
“Somebody’s following us,” he said.
Von Leinsdorf looked back and saw the motorcycle clear the hill behind them. He picked up his rifle. When they reached the top of the next rise, the bike had closed the gap to less than half a mile.
“Who is it?” asked Bernie.
“I don’t know. Maybe we forgot to pay our bill at the hospital,” said Von Leinsdorf, screwing a telescopic sight onto the rifle. “Pull over at the bottom of the next hill.”
When they reached the base of the hill, Bernie pulled off the road onto a hidden drive that led to a farm house in a stand of pines. Once they were out of sight, he cut the engine. Dust settled. Over the country silence, they could hear the buzz of the approaching motorcycle. Von Leinsdorf steadied the barrel of the rifle on the back of the windscreen and waited. The buzz grew louder. He looked down the sight, settling the crosshairs on the peak of the hill.
Bernie swiveled around when he heard a clatter of breaking dishes from inside the farm house. The face of a GI appeared in a window, then the door swung open; a group of six young soldiers hurried toward them.
“Jesus Christ, get out of sight,” said one of them. “What the hell are you doing?”
Von Leinsdorf took his eye off the sight and looked over, a
“They’re right on top of us, get out of sight!”
A rumble shook the earth, along with it the high-pitched whine of steel grating on steel. On the far side of the woods to the east three Panther tanks appeared and wheeled to a stop on the summit of the next hill, straddling the road. Walking alongside and behind them, in skirmish formation, were a column of black-jacketed soldiers. On their collars Bernie saw the double-lightning insignia of the SS Panzergrenadiers.
Aboard the bike, Gra
Von Leinsdorf found Earl Gra
“I think that’s one of ours, Lieutenant,” he said, for the benefit of the approaching GIs.
Von Leinsdorf glared at him but didn’t respond. Bernie refused to let go of the rifle.
“You don’t want the Krauts to know we’re down here, do you?”
The soldiers from the farm house reached the side of their jeep. They were all Bernie’s age or younger, frightened and confused.
“You got to get us out of here,” one of them said.
“Who the fuck are you?” snapped Von Leinsdorf.
“Rifle company, 99th Infantry,” said their sergeant. “We were mining a logging road near the Skyline Drive. Krauts started coming out of the woodwork. Our jeep got hit. We’ve been dodging ’em for hours, trying to get back to our line.”
“They’re all over the fuckin’ place,” said another. “What the hell are we supposed to do, Lieutenant?”
One of the young Americans, wearing a bandage on a leg wound, started crying. They all looked to Von Leinsdorf for guidance, like a lost pack of Boy Scouts. Von Leinsdorf could barely conceal his disgust.
“They haven’t spotted us yet,” said Bernie. “Hop on, we’ll make a run for it.”
The six GIs crowded into the backseat and jumped onto the ru
Looking down into the valley, Gra
As Gra
11
67th Evacuation Hospital
DECEMBER 16, NOON
The naked body of Gunther Preuss lay on a stainless steel countertop behind curtains near the back of the surgery tent, a makeshift morgue. Vincent Mallory’s corpse, already examined, lay on a second counter, covered with a bloodstained sheet. Earl Gra
After making his way back to the hospital, Gra
The doctor called Gra
“They were both poisoned,” said the doctor. “Some toxin caused the hemorrhaging that destroyed all this soft tissue.”
“What do you think it was?”
“Judging from the smell, if I recall my rudimentary chemistry correctly, hydrocyanic acid. Prussic or cyanide.”
“Something you could pour into an IV bag,” said Gra
“Comes in liquid form. It’s a clear substance, so nobody’d notice.”
“How big a dose?”
“Wouldn’t take more than a few drops-don’t get too close with that cigar smoke, Lieutenant, or you’re go
Gra
“No, we do not, sir.” The doctor snapped off his gloves and looked at him sharply. “You’re a cop, aren’t you? Back home.”
“That’s right.”
“You like to tell me what’s going on? We don’t have enough carnage, some sick son of a bitch has to come into my hospital and kill wounded soldiers? Why in the hell should that happen?”
“I’ll have to get back to you.”
“I’m going back to work,” said the surgeon. “They’re saying we got big trouble out there. That what you saw?”
“Trouble doesn’t cover it.”
“There’s talk we might have to pull out of here, if the damn army doesn’t chase its tail around before they’re on top of us. My staff can’t save lives in a German prison camp.”
The doctor left him alone with the bodies. Gra
This was that second officer the MP spotted in the jeep at Elsenborn.
So why’d you kill this one, Lieutenant? He gets tagged along the way to wherever you’re going, all of a sudden he’s expendable, too? A superior officer? This wasn’t a fatal wound like your other man-buckshot in his shoulder and neck-but still you took him out.