Surprised, Memling glanced at the scientist. He was obviously frightened; his eyes darted here and there, and his hands were tightly clenched, yet he wanted to do his part. Memling nodded. ‘Get a Sten from the aircraft.’
The general bellowed orders in Polish, and the guerrillas divided into three columns and moved out. One column was to backtrack to the end of the valley and ambush the army garrison pushing up the road.
The second and third columns were organised to form a trap. A thin screen, part of the second column, would be thrown across the road a kilometre north of the aircraft. They would allow the SS unit to burst through, into a fire field laid down by the remainder of the column. Again the SS would be allowed to break through, thus providing the impression that they had breached the partisans’ defences. While their confidence was high, but before the motorised column could resume speed, they would be slowed again by trees felled across the road. The general was confident that the column’s commander, rather than wait to clear the trees, would order the lorries on to the verge to bypass the roadblock. The soft ground would slow the troop carriers and the armoured car reported with them. At that point the partisans’ single thirty-seven-millimetre anti-tank gun would fire on the armoured car while soldiers with Molotov cocktails would destroy the lorries. With the way blocked front and back, the rest could be dealt with at leisure.
It was the classic guerrilla tactic against armoured vehicles, devised by the Finns during the winter of 1939-40. Even the weapons were the same: the thirty-seven-millimetre anti-tank gun and Molotov cocktails. Memling watched doubtfully as the partisans trotted off into the darkness. The tactic was well known; it might work against the invalided troops coming up in the rear but not against the battle-hardened Waffen SS who would have perfected their anti-guerrilla techniques on the Russian front. The general must have sensed his thoughts, for he clapped him a stunning blow on the shoulder.
‘His hokay. You see! German always do same thing.’
With Reynolds panting behind, Memling followed the fast pace set by the partisans. Loud cracks sounded just ahead, and a moment later he saw tree trunks crash across the single track. Memling and Reynolds dogged the general as he checked his forward positions. The ground on either side of the trees was even spongier than the landing site, and Memling’s boots squished. The Poles had excavated shallow trenches which were already filling with water. Memling slid in without hesitation but had to reach up and yank Reynolds after him. He took a quick look at Reynolds, but the darkness hid his face.
‘Ah, Major?’
‘Just keep your head down and you’ll be all right,’ Memling answered absently.
‘No, it’s… I had a look at the rocket. There was no sign of any radio guidance system, and the fuel tanks… well… they were, ah, made of steel. Just as you said they would be. I certainly owe you…’
An exchange of gunfire broke out with the sharp bursts of SS machine-gun fire predominating. The shooting stopped, and the engine noise of the lorries was clear in the night silence. General Kierzek chuckled and clapped Memling on the shoulder.
A moment later firing sounded again, only sharper and more prolonged this time. The lorry engines were louder, and suddenly the armoured car loomed in the darkness, silhouetted against the sparse trees. Its machine-gun chattered off a burst, swivelling across the road to either side, a tactic originated by Erwin Rommel during the 1940 blitzkrieg.
The partisans ignored the probing gunfire, and a moment later the driver saw the trees lying across the road. The machine-gunner fired a long burst into the area, and spurts of dirt and flying rocks kicked across the top of their trench. Memling heard a shout, and the armoured car turned on to the verge, followed by the first lorry. Both ground forward and bogged down. The anti-tank gun to their right went off with a bang, and the armoured car’s turret burst open. Troops tumbled out of the leading lorry, and the partisans opened up with everything they had. The thirty-seven-millimetre gun barked again, and the lorry exploded. A flaming bottle arced down on to the second lorry still on the roadway and splattered against the canvas top. The fourth and last in line received a similar barrage and blew up quickly.
The partisans who had manned the two forward lines appeared out of the trees to pour fire into the meagre defensive line the SS troops had managed to establish, and it was over in minutes. Scattered shots sounded as partisans finished off the wounded and dying SS troopers, then set about stripping the dead of weapons, ammunition, rations and boots.
