Mila 18 - Leon Uris [40]
September 1, 1939
To: Commander, 7th Ulany Mounted Brigade—Grudziadz
From: Company A, mobile border patrol
Last night we encamped at position L-14 opposite Marienwerder. The area was scouted by the special detachment in accordance with verbal orders.
Abnormal German strength is evident in this area. In addition to units we have previously identified, we have identified two new regiments of armored infantry and at least a portion of a division of Panzer tanks (22nd and 56th Infantry and 3rd Panzer Tanks).
Two battalions of this Panzer tank division moved out of Marienwerder this morning at 0300, apparently for disposition in a southerly direction.
Company A will continue north today. We expect to join the balance of the battalion at Tczew tonight.
Signed: Andrei Androfski, Captain, Company A
Andrei folded the dispatch, then opened it on a sudden impulse. Across the bottom of the paper he scrawled the words, “Long live Poland!”
First Sergeant Styka trotted his mount to Andrei and snapped a salute. “The company is eating, sir. We should be ready to move out in a half hour.”
“Any sign of Company B yet?”
“No, sir. No sign of them.”
Andrei looked at his watch and wondered. It was half past five. The deadline was 0600. A half hour to go. Trouble up north? Well, no use speculating about it.
“Morning, sir,” the officers said as he moved into their circle.
“Morning.”
He and Styka sat off to one side and ate. Goddamned ham. My father would roll over in his grave if he could see me eat ham.
“Styka, when the hell are you going to learn to brew tea?” He flipped the contents in the bottom of the cup to the ground.
“I’m afraid never, sir.”
“Have the company saddle up and stand by.”
“Yes, sir.”
Andrei walked to the edge of the woods and stared long and futilely up the empty road, straining to see a telltale whiff of dust or hear the welcome sound of hoofbeats.
0600, the maximum hour, passed. No Company B.
Suddenly the entire movement of the company stopped, and all the men were staring up the road. Andrei walked back to the bivouac area. “Styka!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Send me a rider. Make it Tyrowicz.”
Company A’s best rider, Corporal Tyrowicz, reported.
“Tyrowicz, ride hard back to Grudziadz. I want you back there by noon. Use fields—stay off the main road. Can you do it, lad?”
“I’ll try hard, Captain.”
“Hand-deliver this dispatch to Brigadier Bozakolski. Tell him that Company B did not show up. We are proceeding north.”
“Yes, sir.”
He watched Tyrowicz spur out, driving his horse. He wheeled to Styka. “Move the advance scouts out. First platoon take the point. Use flank guards. Be on the road in five minutes, column of twos. Shake it up.”
“Yes, sir.”
It was chilly in the dawnlight. The men beat warmth into themselves, and darts of frosted air spurted from their mouths. The first rays of light penetrated the woods, changing the world from ugly gray. Up and down, the crisp orders to mount up. There was no cursing or griping. A sobering tension filled them all. Some of the more pious were on their knees saying quick Hail Marys. Strange, Andrei thought, this isn’t much of a praying company. He looked at his watch again. It would be fully light in another forty minutes. Where the hell was Company B! Where the hell were they!
Andrei’s stomach knotted in much the same way as it did before a soccer match. Was this quiet morning and Styka’s bad tea war?
The first sergeant returned. “We are formed up, sir.”
Andrei nodded and watched the sergeant trot off out to the road.
The woods was empty now. Andrei checked the saddle buckles on Batory. He chewed a piece of black bread, sipped from the canteen, and slipped it back into the saddlebag. He looked up at his magnificent black beast. The horse was nervous.
Andrei pressed his forehead against Batory’s neck. “We render thanks unto Thee for our lives, which are in Thy hands, and for our souls, which are ever in Thy keeping.”
Why did I pray? I have not prayed since I was a boy. Batory whinnied and went up on his hind legs. “You feel it too, don’t you,