Free Fox at the Front (Fox on the Rhine) by Douglas Niles, Michael Dobson Page A

impossible, you say?” said Peiper with a hard edge in his voice. “I appreciate the speed of the action, but I don’t wish to gamble any lives in support of that proposition.”
    The scout motorcyclist immediately responded, “Sorry, Herr Obersturmbannführer. In any event, the scout is terminated.”
    “German or Allied?”
    “German, sir.”
    Peiper thought about this for a minute. Were the scouts in response to an actual perceived threat, or were they simply there as part of normal military discipline? Did they know of his planned attack, or did he still possess the element of surprise? There was no way to be sure, but a single scout was not sufficient evidence of an active defense.
    “I want you to go to the scout car and get the Soldbuch for each soldier. Perform radio check-in using standard codes for Armeegruppe B. Those shouldn’t have changed yet. Break off part of the antenna so you will have poor reception. If you get a question you can’t answer, the static will mean you didn’t hear it or they didn’t hear your answer. If they get too suspicious, let me know. Otherwise, check in with them every half hour. Got it?”
    “Jawohl, Herr Obersturmbannführer,” replied the motorcycle scout. He snapped off a salute, swung his motorcycle around, and headed off.
    Peiper decided to continue the advance. He waved his arm and the long column started up again. A regular automobile could travel the thirty kilometers between Namur and Dinant in half an hour or so. Moving at full speed, the kampfgruppe took nearly three hours to come within a few kilometers. The river was on the right of the advance. On the other side of the river, cliffs began to rise. At this point, Peiper called a halt.
    Calling together his senior commanders, he issued his orders. “We will attack toward the center of the city, along two axes. Task Force Potschke takes position on the waterfront,” He pointed to a relatively unpopulated area a kilometer or so north of the main city, then continued. “With Seventh Panzer Company supported by Eleventh and Twelfth Panzergrenadiere, Potschke makes his way south along Chaussée D’Yvior to attack the American and German forces around this cathedral, Rommel’s headquarters.”
    Sturmbannführer Werner Potschke nodded. “Jawohl, Herr Obersturmbannführer,” he acknowledged.
    “In the meantime, Hauptsturmführer Diefenthal will concentrate the artillery in support of our advance. I will take the panzer column into the city along the Rue Leopold.” Task Force Peiper would consist of three companies of Panzer IV and Vs, along with three companies of motorized infantry; it would pack the kampfgruppe’s hardest punch.
    “When we break off combat, we will also move toward the east. The rest of the Leibstandarte is currently moving to occupy Saint-Vith and ensure that it does not fall into the hands of the traitors; this is critical to move all of Sixth Panzer Armies and whatever other units we can rescue back to the Westwall and the Fatherland.
    “Good luck. In the tradition of Leibstandarte Adolf Hitler, we advance to defend the purity of the Fatherland.” Peiper looked at his subordinates one after another. “Heil Himmler,” he said, and all saluted.
    Peiper climbed back onto his tank. “Let’s go,” he ordered.
    ARMEEGRUPPE B HEADQUARTERS, DINANT, 1312 HOURS GMT
    The first indication of trouble came in the form of a radio call to Patton from Lieutenant General Courtney Hodges, commander of the U.S. First Army, who had felt the brunt of Operation Fuchs am Rhein. The normally mild-mannered voice was trembling with rage.
    “Georgie, I sent the Ninety-ninth Infantry to take the surrender of the Sixth Panzer Army yesterday, but they’ve been double-crossed. Those Nazi bastards have massacred my men. I’m treating this as a cease-fire violation and am passing back to the attack. Somebody who holds up a white flag and starts shooting again is a no-account bastard in my book. I don’t know