Authors: Harvey Black
Devils with Wings (27 page)
“So you see gentlemen, we have the toys to do the job.”
They spent another half an hour throwing questions and answers to and fro, until all were as satisfied they had extracted all the information that was available.
All they could do now was eat, play cards, talk or try to sleep.
Paul and Max sat outside the canteen, a table and chairs had been dragged outdoors to enable them sit and watch the never ending activity that seemed to have kicked off ever since they had been given the go ahead.
It was eight in the evening, and truck loads of Luftwaffe ground crew had turned up, and were immediately given the task of pulling out the gliders ready to be attached to the Junkers tow planes that had been landing at the airfield since dawn that day.
The entire platoon was now gathered outside the canteen, they had little else to do. They had checked their kit again and again. They had checked each other’s kit again and again. They had completed their wills, written letters home, those only being released once their mission was complete.
Now they were just chatting, swapping stories about their training during the last six months, talking about family and loved ones back home. Asking questions of their superiors, with Paul, Max and the Uffz’s answering what questions they could.
There was a cheer from the paratroopers on the periphery of the group, and when questioned what the celebration was about, they proceeded to point to the field kitchen that was drawing up close to one of the hangars.
They all charged across to the hangar, the field kitchen a welcome distraction, and the food of course.
When Paul joined them, they were already walking away with steaming plates of sausages and mashed potatoes, heading back to the canteen to eat it before it cooled.
While they were eating, the Luftwaffe ground crews were finally pulling the gliders out of the hangers, doing it in the dark, as the floodlights had been turned off to protect the gliders from prying eyes.
The Junkers were jockeyed into position, the gliders then secured to the towlines and the release catches checked, and checked again.
Paul knew the glider pilots would be over there, making sure no damage was done to their precious craft and that the release gear truly did work.
A Luftwaffe Feldwebel ran up to Paul and saluted, now that Paul was wearing his Fallschirmjager badges and titles of rank again.
“With Oberleutnant Faust’s compliments sir, but could your troops embark on the gliders immediately.”
With that, he saluted again and went to find the rest of Group Granite to pass on the instructions given to him.
“Max,” called Paul, “Let’s get the men together, we’re mounting up.”
“Doesn’t the Oberleutnant trust that we’re ready sir?”
Max said it with humour; he would probably do the same thing himself if the positions were reversed.
“He just wants to make sure you’re not out womanising Unterfeldwebel Grun, now get the men together.”
“Right you lot, in your troops, left to right, come on, we don’t want to keep the Oberleutnant waiting.”
Once assembled, Paul, Max, Fischer and Leeb, led their assault troops to their respective gliders and boarded them.
The final checks completed, they were dismissed until the operation start time of three thirty in the morning.
But, they were instructed to stay within the confines of the hard standing, the hangars or the canteen.
This was it; they were getting close to the point of no return.
With little else to do, the adrenaline pumping through their veins, they went back to playing cards and writing letters. Some, like Max and Paul, went to find somewhere to get their heads down; they didn’t know when they might next get any sleep.
It was two forty five in the morning; Paul woke with a start, his shoulder being shaken to awaken him up.
“Sir,” hissed the orderly. “It’s time.”
“Time? Right, thank you,” responded Paul groggily as he sat up and lifted his legs off to camp bed he’d been sleeping on.
He rubbed his eyes, bringing himself round after what had been a surprisingly deep sleep.
“Has Unterfeldwebel Grun been roused?” questioned Paul.
“He was already awake sir, he asked me to call you.”
“Okay, thank you.”
Paul heaved himself up off the camp bed and started to pull on his gear. Trust Max, he thought, to be up first. He probably threatened the orderly with a pain worse than death if he didn’t wake him up first.
Max joined him five minutes later with a hot, steaming cup of coffee.
“You never sleep Max?”
“Someone has to watch over my sleeping beauties sir, you excluded of course,” he said with a grin.
“Are the men ready Max?” enquired Paul, knowing that Max would have the platoon ready and shipshape.
“We’ve been allocated our gliders and have started to load them with weapons, ammunition and explosives. We’ve been asked by the glider pilots to relocate some items, to ensure the optimum balance. We don’t want to overload our flying pack horses, do we?”
“This it Max, the culmination of all of our training.”
“It had to come sooner or later,” he said jovially, “we couldn’t have free food and board forever.”
“They couldn’t have kept you cooped up here for much longer either Max.”
“That goes for all of us sir.”
“Right then Max, let’s go.”
Max reached out his arm to haul his officer up off the bed. Paul clasped his NCOs’ burley wrist, not moving for a second, but saying, “thank you Max, your strength has helped get us through these last six months. As a result we’re better prepared.”
Max pulled him up off the bunk, “don’t you fret sir; we’ve got this licked.”
They left the room to join the rest of their men.
The paratroopers went about their preparations quietly and seriously. This was a serious business. They were composed because they were confident in the plan, confident in their unit and confident in themselves.
At three thirty, assault team granite was formed up in full battle gear, Oberleutnant Faust going over the final checks with his officers and senior NCOs.
They made their final preparations. Paul was wearing a stripped down version of the basic load-carrying belt; a leather belt, ‘Y’ straps, automatic pistol holster on the left hip, as he was right handed, gas mask bag, bread bag for his rations and one canteen for water.
He carried an MP40 sub machine pistol and a set of triple magazine pouches attached to his belt. Many of the force carried the Karabiner, Kar 98k and carbine. With it came a cloth bandolier, which they hung around their neck and both sides of their chest, fixed in position on the waistline, either side of the belt buckle.
The twelve compartments sported one hundred and twenty rounds. This may seem excessive, as they were only meant to be in combat for six hours before being relieved. But in an intense conflict, ammunition could rapidly be consumed, and should they not be relieved until later, they would be very dependent on a re-supply.
Paul checked that his torch was working and that the rest of his command also had their torches available for immediate use. He clipped his to the front of his tunic.
Paul had asked Max to ensure that the soldiers also stowed away some biscuits or chocolate, just in case their relief was delayed or that their re-supply failed to appear.
Max was also doing a check of the four troops, and once he had finished, they would check each other’s equipment.
Spread across Paul’s teams, they had four MG34’s and one Flammenwerfer, Flamethrower. Group Granite was fortunate to have the new lighter model, the series 40. This deadly weapon could shoot a flame up to thirty metres long for up to ten seconds, although the engineers recommended that they use one to two second bursts. Paul knew he would certainly not want to be on the receiving end of that flaming oil.
These and the MG’s had already been stowed on the glider.
Max walked over, “all’s well sir, shall I check your kit now?”
“Yes, go ahead, and then we must load the special weapons.”
Max handed Paul two egg hand grenades and two stick grenades,
“Secure these well sir, I am sure they will come in handy. I’ve made sure the rest of the troops are well stocked.”
“Smoke grenades Max?”
“Each troop has twelve; Forster, Straube and Kienitz have them in your troop.”
Max checked his commanders fighting equipment and Paul did likewise for him and all was well.
They gathered the troops together and gave the instruction to start to load the special weapons onboard the craft, waiting silently on the runway with one wing down on the ground, the other pointing into the sky as if indicating it was ready to complete its task.
In the gloom of the early morning, they looked like spectres, or phoenix’s waiting to come to life.
Max supervised the assembly and the loading of the explosives; this was completed efficiently and without any problems.
Distributed across the eleven gliders, they would carry some two and half thousand kilograms of explosives. A third of the explosives carried by the group would be made up of the new fifty kilogram and twelve and a half kilogram hollow charges; the remainder would be made up of more conventional explosives.
It was near the time of embarkation and they completed the last of their preparations.
Paul’s final task was to heavily smear his face and helmet with mud, the purpose being to hide as much of the sheen as possible. Paul noted that the rest of his force was following suit, complying with a basic rule of camouflage, of hiding the shape and shine of your face and helmet.
Paul ran his hands through his fair hair before placing his helmet on his head and securing the strap.
Faust gave the order to embark.
Paul and his men made their way out to the gliders, an oil lamp flickering in front of a board by each aircraft identifying which glider was allocated to which troop.
Boarding the wrong glider wouldn’t be a problem until they landed, finding they had got a glider with the wrong equipment stowed, or they couldn’t locate everything, would be a disaster for the assault troop unlucky enough to experience that.
Paul was the last one on board glider two. He could hear his men behind him, shuffling on the central bench attempting to get comfortable for their forty minute flight.
Hempel too, was getting himself comfortable. For the next forty minutes he was the most important person on board.
He was checking his controls, ensuring that the wing flaps and rudder responded to his foot pedals and joystick.
The clock was ticking; they would soon be in the air.
Hempel leant back and spoke to Paul, “any minute now sir.”
Just as he spoke, a flare soared above them. It was time. No amount of doubt or reflection could stop it now.
If Group Granite was to secure this seemingly invincible fort through shock tactics; they had to land all eleven gliders, their assault troops intact, within minutes of each other and within metres of their targets.
It was ten past four in the morning on the tenth of May nineteen forty; the troop was part of Storm Group Granite, an extension of the advanced guard of the German airborne assault on the Low Countries. A vanguard operation aimed at key sectors of the Belgian border, to take control of Fort Eben Emael and the Albert Canal bridges.
They were at the forefront of a massive German invasion to take Western Europe. Storm Group Granite, commanded by Hauptman Joachim Faust, was tasked with taking Fort Eben Emael, securing the gateway to the soft underbelly of this vulnerable and unprepared country, about to be caught off guard by a devious and determined enemy.
On this day, three Regiments of the Belgian 7th Division were holding the line of the Albert Canal with their right flank anchored by the fortified complex of Eben Emael.
This fortress was armed with two, one hundred and twenty millimetre guns and sixteen, seventy-five millimetre guns in armoured turrets and casemates. Eleven gliders would land on top of the fort, secure it, and ensure it remained in their hands until relieved by 4th Panzer Division, of XVI Panzer Corps.
The airborne assault was launched in support of this German offensive. The opening attack was to be made by the 7
th
Flieger, a Luftwaffe unit commanded by General Max Student, and 22
nd
Infantry Division commanded by General Graf von Sponeck. The 22
nd
Infantry Division was an army airborne formation with troops and equipment suited to be transported by air, to complete whatever task was expected of them.
On this occasion, the 22
nd
was tasked to take The Hague, and if possible obtain the submission and cooperation of the Dutch Crown. The division was also to take the airfields at Valkenburg, YPenburg and Ockenburg, lying to the north, east and south of The Hague respectively.
Whereas, the rest of 7
th
Flieger was to occupy Rotterdam and Waalhaven airports, strike at Dordrecht, the Moerdijk bridges across the Maas estuary, clearing a corridor for the German 18
th
army.
One critical role of the 7
th
Flieger, was to take the bridges at Veldwezelt, Vroenhoven and Canne and take Fort Eben Emael, reputedly the strongest fort of its time in the world, defended by elements of the Belgian 7
th
Division.
The imaginative flair of Adolf Hitler himself had taken a personal interest in the planning of the surprise capture of the Albert Canal bridges, despite the skepticism of the OKW, the German High Command. He was a strong supporter of the new parachute force and he had suggested that they use gliders as a new mode of attack.
As paratroopers would not be able to land directly on the objectives by parachute, with the precision needed in the first instance and to reduce the warning given to the Belgian defenders, it was decided that gliders would deliver the primary strike.
A special detachment of forty-two gliders had been formed under the command of Hauptman Kaufmann, made up of four hundred and fifty men, including pilots, of the 2
nd
Parachute Battalion. For months the battalion had undergone rigorous training at a secret location, practicing in the use of explosives and going through the manoeuvres necessary to take the key gun emplacements and secure strategic bridges.