Armageddon_ A Novel of Berlin - Leon Uris [31]
“Major,” O’Toole said, “there’s a kraut officer outside.”
“Send him in.”
Sean walked deliberately to the desk of the mayor and sat behind it. The German entered, stood ramrod before the desk, and bowed slightly. He was meticulously uniformed for this occasion of defeat, as though blood and mud were not a part of his trade. The German was a strange contrast to the dirty and tired O’Sullivan.
He rattled quickly that he was the senior officer and wished to know if Sean would have a surrender ceremony. Sean stood, turning his back to the German. “O’Toole, take this man to Blessing. Tell Blessing this officer is to round up his people, bring them to the square, and stack their arms.”
The German began to protest that it was no way to treat an honorable enemy commander.
“That is all,” Sean cut him off abruptly.
Events moved rapidly. The long training of Pilot Team G-5 was now put into play. They moved about their preordained tasks with such precision that even the cynical Maurice Duquesne was impressed.
Soon German soldiers began straggling into the square. A half-dozen tanks and a company of Dundee’s infantry formed a picket around them. The Germans limped in with the same dejection that had marked other beaten men from France to Rombaden. Their plight and their humiliation was intensified by surrender inside one of their own cities. The pile of arms grew higher, until the square held several thousand soldiers.
Some of them were beardless boys in their teens. Others were old men. These were the People’s Army. The last-ditch home defense.
The German officers stood in a clique away from their men as though the soldiers were contaminated.
Curious civilians began to peek about with caution. Walking close to the buildings at a creeping pace, holding a respectful distance from the prisoners.
“It is over.”
“It is over.”
“It is over.”
They milled about and gawked in dazed confusion. Some wept with grief and some wept with relief. “It is over.”
By late afternoon a dozen or more of the civic officials had been hauled in; however, neither Count Ludwig nor Baron Sigmund Von Romstein nor their younger brother Kurt had been found.
The square was now mobbed with frightened, glassy-eyed people. Sean O’Sullivan came downstairs and faced them from the steps of City Hall. He ordered the flags of the United States, Britain, France, and the Soviet Union hoisted above the building and his first order posted.
PROCLAMATION #1: APRIL 21, 1945
Attention! Citizens of Rombaden!
This city has unconditionally surrendered to Allied Forces. City Hall is hereby designated as Headquarters of Allied Forces Military Government.
No further resistance will be tolerated.
You are under the supreme command of the Allied representative.
All German courts, schools, banks, transportation and communications within city limits are hereby suspended. All business is suspended. The police force is hereby disbanded.
All members of the German armed forces will surrender themselves with their firearms immediately in the City Hall Square. All firearms will be deposited at the City Hall immediately.
All motor vehicles are hereby requisitioned.
All warehouses are hereby requisitioned.
All stores and petrol are hereby confiscated.
All German penal law is hereby suspended.
Rombaden is under curfew from 1900 to 0600 daily. Violators will be shot on sight.
All theaters, cinemas, radio stations, newspapers and other publications will suspend operations immediately.
The Mayor, Sanitation Officer, District Mayors, Medical Officer, Police Chief, City Engineer and their immediate subordinates will report immediately to Allied Headquarters.
All other civilians are hereby ordered to return to their homes and stay until notified.
By order of: Sean O’Sullivan, Major, United States Army. Military Governor of Rombaden/ Romstein.
Chapter Fifteen
DEAR GENERAL HANSEN,
As we planned, I am writing these informal impressions on the basis of the first 72 hours. Dundee’s Regiment is meeting stiff opposition from the Waffen SS in Romstein District