Free Screaming Eagles (The Front, Book 1) by David Moody, Craig DiLouie, Timothy W. Long Page B

the spots he had in mind and the men complied. He dug in earnest, feeling like every second had him under a gun sight. If the Germans arrived and he wasn’t back in the tank, they’d have a hell of a time without him.
    The three men worked at different spots, trying to dig into the hard dirt. The ground wasn’t just hard; it was rocky. They’d fought over mud and snow, but this part of the road was higher than the land around it, and hadn’t been soaked through.
    “They’re coming,” one of the guys said. He couldn’t have been eighteen, looked like a damn kid. Woodward had run into a few guys who’d fibbed on their applications and got into the armed forces. Glory of war was high back in the states. He knew this all too well; it was why he’d joined up.
    “You sure about those fuses? Got the pressure plates off and them set?”
    “Yeah, I’m sure.”
    Woodward hoped they were right, but didn’t have time to take the damn mines apart. He maneuvered his into place and grimaced at how it stuck out an inch.
    The ground rumbled underneath him.
    “We need to move. Cover them as best you can and get back with your units,” he called to the men.
    He pushed earth and rocks on top of the mine he was working on, then stood up to survey his work. He wasn't fooled for a second. If one of the Krauts were paying attention, he’d see the mounds and avoid them.
    The creaking of metal and the squeal of wheels against track told him he was out of time. The men had already disappeared into the woods, and that left him standing in the middle of a road alone, facing a tank company.
    Woodward said a short prayer, crossed himself, then ran back to the tank.
    As he waded into the woods and bushes, he thought he saw something. Between a pair of large pines, someone had been moving. No, not someone: a lot of someones. He ducked and waited, sticking close to a tree.
    The figures moved just fifty yards away. He squinted. The men were dressed in white, and clearly weren’t Allies. But the force was odd, somehow. They didn’t advance through the woods the way they would if they were hunting enemies.
    They ran, paused, dropped to the ground and sniffed, and then ran some more. They carried weapons and gear, but none of the men had rifles raised.
    “Like a pack of damn dogs,” Woodward whispered to himself.
    Then the force faded into the woods and was out of sight.
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Sixteen
    Graves
    “ S ilence , I want complete silence.” Graves shouldn’t even have had to say it, but he wanted to be sure they were as quiet as a cemetery when the Germans arrived.
    The radio clicked next to his ear.
    “What do you see?” he asked.
    “Got reports of four Panzers and some infantry headed our way. Should run into our little surprise in about three minutes,” Bucky reported from the Sherman next to theirs.
    “Guess it’s time to get back in the war,” Graves said, and hung up.
    Woodward clambered up the side of the tank and slithered back inside.
    “Mission accomplished,” he said. “Saw some Krauts in the woods just now, but they moved away from us.”
    “Wehrmacht?”
    “Yeah, but they were crazy. Running around like wolves looking for something to eat,” Woodward said.
    “Did you step out for a nip?” Big Texas asked.
    “No I didn’t have a drink, dummy. I saw what I saw.”
    “Stick to the mission. If those wolves become a problem we’ll deal with them.”
    They waited in silence. Graves counted in his head while he watched the second hand on his beat up Timex. It ticked away like an inevitable timer counting down their doom.
    One Kraut paying extra attention to this area, and it would all be over. The Panzers would make short work of the little force. The infantry guys would have a chance, because they could fade into the forest. The tanks wouldn’t be so lucky. They’d try to perform a retreating action but they’d likely end up on fire. How Murph and his crew had lasted this long was a mystery even to him. A Sherman up