Blood and Ice
Leo Kessler
Language: English
Pages: 176
ISBN: 0860074838
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
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over twenty-five and virtually every one of them decorated in combat, looked fit and confident in spite of the terrible danger of their bold mission. ‘Check equipment!’ he snapped. With the precision of machines, each man turned to his neighbour and checked his equipment – Machine pistol, ammunition, grenades, smoke and high explosive, pistol, emergency rations – before reporting ‘All correct’. ‘Comrade Major.’ Suslov turned. It was the young glider pilot, who like all the pilots in the Grey
hesitate. He bound the disgusting rag around his mouth. ‘Well, don’t stand there like a fart in a trance, you stupid Cheesehead. Do the same!’ Schulze ordered. ‘And bring me some more ammo.’ He dropped onto his belly and crawling through the smoke advanced to the edge of the sheer drop. Ignoring the ricochets and the vicious crack of rifle grenades exploding all around him, he drew his last grenade. Narrowing his eyes against the ever thickening smoke which had blinded the gun, he pulled the
Death’s Head and fourteen still running in the Viking. There was nothing the SS men could do, but retreat. The Russians were everywhere. On 1 February, 1945, Gilles, Commander of the Fourth SS Panzer Corps, reported to his chief, General Balck, that his divisions were exhausted. They could do no more. Balck, who hated the Armed SS, but who at the same time knew that if the Third Reich’s élite had failed to break through to the Hungarian capital there was no hope left, made his decision. It was
faces. ‘Once we are aware of that, I suggest the rest is easy.’ Pfeffer-Wildenbruch sipped his drink and listened, but he felt a sudden quickening of his pulse at the prospect he knew the young crippled Colonel would hold out to them. ‘There are two ways one can fight a siege, gentlemen,’ Habicht continued. ‘One can lie supinely like some fat whore with her legs open passively waiting to be taken. Or one can fight back against the rapist with tooth, nail, and claw.’ His voice rose a little. ‘We
had been forecast as seven metres per second. Instead it turned out to be twice that speed. The casualties had been appalling. Man after man had had his chute caught by the howling wind, fought desperately to empty the air out of it, and been borne away across the white waste never to be seen again. By dawn Suslov had collected exactly one hundred survivors and of that pathetic handful of men some twelve were seriously injured and had to be left behind – at their own request. But that was not
