Screaming Eagles (The Front, Book 1) Read Free Page A

machines heaved over mounds of snow and disappeared into the tree line.
    “Guess that answers that question,” Tramble said.
    “Oh sweet Jesus,” Coley said.
    The slope of the German soldiers' helmets gave them away. They faded out of the mist and streamed toward the town. It wasn't just a single German patrol either; there were at least a hundred men moving in a column.
    He tried the radio repeatedly, and finally got through to command.
    “You must be seeing things,” they told the Lieutenant. Again.
    “Respectfully, we just hunkered down during two hours of artillery barrages. The entire goddamn Sigfried line just opened up on this location. Something big is brewing and we need orders.”
    “Wait one,” the radio operator said, and clicked off.
    “Son of a bitch. They’re still saying we’re just seeing things and the barrage isn’t happening,” Coley relayed the words.
    “That’s a fine way to say good morning. What do we do?”
    Ten minutes later, Coley got back on the radio, and repeated his requested his artillery support.
    Explosions and gunfire came from the direction of the village. The men dug in around Coley, set up weapons and pointed them toward the houses below. They had a .30 caliber machine gun, as well as a .50 cal mounted on the back of a jeep. The jeep had been placed in a dugout and covered with logs and foliage, to keep it hidden from view.
    That left them with five jeeps that had been hidden in the woods behind their position.
    Coley and his men turned their gunsights on the town, and waited.
    A pair of figures that had to be Private Shaw and Corporal Harpham dashed across the field, maneuvered under the barbed wire fence, and ran like the dickens. They wove through trees and ducked behind natural cover.
    Coley lifted an M1 and aimed at the mass of soldiers near the village.
    “Get ready to fire, men," Coley called. "Pick your targets and drop as many as you can before they get wise to us.” His orders were relayed across the half-dozen dugouts. “Hold your fire until I say.”
    “They ain’t seen us yet,” Tramble said.
    “Yeah, and maybe they won’t."
    Coley wondered how they were going to fight off a force nearly twenty times their size without artillery support. He used his binoculars to watch the men gathering below.
    A Belgian woman approached the Germans. She was young and pretty, and reminded Coley of one of his sisters. She spoke to a commander for a few seconds, and then pointed at the 99th’s position.
    “Oh Christ. I’m gonna take her out,” Tramble said.
    But he didn’t fire.
    Coley held his breath while the two spoke.
    Suddenly the German commander belted out orders, and his men dove into ditches on either side of the road.
    A jeep roared up behind Coley’s position, and out spilled three men. They quickly unloaded a 60mm mortar and started getting set up in a dugout behind them.
    “Guess our request for help was heard?” Coley asked the mortar team.
    “Sir. We heard there might be some action here. Captain Phillips asked us to check it out, so we brought along help, just in case.”
    The addition of the mortars was a big help, but it wouldn’t be enough to cause serious damage to such a strong force.
    The Germans didn’t waste any time. Small arms fire erupted from their position. They were stretched out across the road, and had decent coverage. But Coley could make out figures. The minute they set up a flanking maneuver, the well-trained Krauts would take them out.
    “Pick your targets, men.” Coley said, and his orders were relayed from dugout to dugout. “When I fire, give 'em hell.”
    As far as motivational speeches went, it wasn’t the best. His men had trained with him for months, and they were a tight outfit. If he'd felt he’d need to stand up and shout orders like Patton, he’d have been a poor commander.
    “Fire!” Coley yelled.
    Coley picked out a figure dressed in white and pulled the trigger. The bullet struck and the soldier rolled