Everand Logo

Welcome to Everand!

  • Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

    Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

    Iron Cross Amerika II: Death Squad
    Iron Cross Amerika II: Death Squad
    Iron Cross Amerika II: Death Squad
    Ebook254 pages3 hours

    Iron Cross Amerika II: Death Squad

    By Eric Meyer

    ()

    Read preview

    About this ebook

    American journalist Paul Schaffer is forced to continue his service in the Sonderbattalion Dirlewanger, the partisan hunters whose reputation for brutal cruelty in occupied Russia is too much even for the Waffen-SS. Yet the battalion sinks to a new low. Returning from Russia to Poland they are pressed into service to fight in the hell of the Warsaw Ghetto.

    The SS and the Red Army are not the only dangers he has to confront. Schaffer becomes acquainted with a Catholic priest, a Jesuit. He seems to be a genuine and compassionate patriot, but gradually a new picture emerges of the man. Schaffer suspects he could be part of a threat that is even greater than the warring nations.

    A thrilling story of the Eastern Front, the war in Russia that claimed millions of lives. Based on real people and real events, the action is so vivid and real that you can almost smell the smoke. From the front line through to the Warsaw Ghetto and the anti-partisan operations, this is an epic tale that paints an astonishing picture of how the war in Russia was truly fought. Yet for some, the killings are not enough to satisfy their lust for blood and their ambitions for power. Behind the scenes men are plotting an infamy that could pitch the war into a new level of slaughter.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherSwordworks Books
    Release dateJul 15, 2011
    ISBN9781906512859
    Iron Cross Amerika II: Death Squad
    Author

    Eric Meyer

    An internationally recognized expert on the subjects of HTML, CSS, and Web standards, Eric has been working on the web since late 1993. He is the founder of Complex Spiral Consulting, a co-founder of the microformats movement, and co-founder (with Jeffrey Zeldman) of An Event Apart, the design conference series for people who make web sites. Beginning in early 1994, Eric was the campus Web coordinator for Case Western Reserve University, where he authored a widely acclaimed series of three HTML tutorials and was project lead for the online version of the Encyclopedia of Cleveland History combined with the Dictionary of Cleveland Biography, the first example of an encyclopedia of urban history being fully and freely published on the Web.

    Read more from Eric Meyer

    Related to Iron Cross Amerika II

    Related ebooks

    War & Military Fiction For You

    View More
    View More

    Related podcast episodes

    Related articles

    • Article

      Lost Opportunity

      Aug 22, 2023

      Lost Opportunity
      4 min read

    • Article

      My Six-month Furlough

      Aug 31, 2021

      My Six-month Furlough
      13 min read

    • Article

      26 Minutes At Son Tay

      Dec 1, 2020

      26 Minutes At Son Tay
      12 min read

    • Article

      ‘Officially’ German

      Sep 30, 2022

      ‘Officially’ German
      4 min read

    • Article

      Hitler’s Two Armies

      Jul 7, 2020

      Hitler’s Two Armies
      9 min read

    • Article

      Still The One

      Apr 30, 2020

      Still The One
      3 min read

    • Article

      License To Kill

      Jul 11, 2023

      License To Kill
      9 min read

    • Article

      Luftwaffe And Top Billing

      Jun 3, 2022

      When it comes to desirability in collector circles, the Luftwaffe (LW) may take top billing. Which is interesting, for Kriegsmarine material is scarcer, Waffen-SS both rare and notorious. Heer mementos are lots more plentiful, but too often deemed “c

      1 min read

    • Article

      A Controversial Question

      Jul 6, 2021

      A Controversial Question
      2 min read

    • Article

      Rare And Wonderful

      Dec 5, 2022

      Rare And Wonderful
      4 min read

    • Article

      On War and Literature

      Jun 8, 2022

      War literature, at its best, exists not as scripture but as liturgy, not to explain but to remember. The post On War and Literature appeared first on The Millions.

      19 min read

    • Article

      On Combat In The East

      Jul 11, 2023

      On Combat In The East
      6 min read

    • Article

      A Speculative Succession

      Nov 24, 2020

      A Speculative Succession
      5 min read

    • Article

      Innocence Lost

      Feb 5, 2019

      Innocence Lost
      6 min read

    • Article

      Oskar Dirlewanger

      Jun 10, 2021

      Oskar Dirlewanger
      3 min read

    • Article

      Demobilising The Wehrmacht

      Apr 16, 2020

      Demobilising The Wehrmacht
      7 min read

    • Article

      Norwegian Warrior

      Nov 21, 2023

      Norwegian Warrior
      2 min read

    • Article

      ‘I Was The First Who Fell’

      May 16, 2023

      ‘I Was The First Who Fell’
      13 min read

    • Article

      Letters

      May 14, 2020

      Letters
      4 min read

    • Article

      Letters

      Jul 13, 2023

      James Wright’s letter [FT431:62- 63] rightly points out that the film Poltergeist was allegedly ‘cursed’. However, he gave me a laugh when he mentions actress “JoBeth Williams, who won the part for showing precocious reading ability at her audition”.

      14 min read

    Related categories

    Reviews for Iron Cross Amerika II

    0 ratings

    0 ratings0 reviews

    What did you think?

    Tap to rate

    Review must be at least 10 words

      Book preview

      Iron Cross Amerika II - Eric Meyer

      Iron Cross Amerika II: DEATH SQUAD

      By Eric Meyer

      SMASHWORDS EDITION

      * * * * *

      PUBLISHED BY:

      Swordworks Books

      IRON CROSS AMERIKA II: DEATH SQUAD

      Copyright © 2011 by Eric Meyer

      All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

      This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

      Smashwords Edition License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

      * * * * *

      ALSO BY THIS Author

      IRON CROSS AMERIKA

      Devil's Battalion: Himmler's Gold

      Devil’s Guard: The Real Story

      Devil’s Guard Vietnam

      Devil’s Guard COUNTERATTACK

      Devil’s Guard Blood & Snow

      SS Englander

      * * * * *

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      PREFACE

      CHAPTER 1

      CHAPTER 2

      CHAPTER 3

      CHAPTER 4

      CHAPTER 5

      CHAPTER 6

      CHAPTER 7

      CHAPTER 8

      CHAPTER 9

      CHAPTER 10

      * * * * *

      Iron Cross Amerika II: DEATH SQUAD

      Preface

      Although this story is fictional, it is based on true and accurate depictions of events and places as they happened, with a few notable exceptions. There are descriptions of the French SS-Freiwilligen Sturmbrigade on the Eastern Front in April 1943. Historically, the Sturmbrigade, a unit of French SS volunteers, was not formed until four months after the events in this story took place. With the exception of the dates, they have been described in as accurate a way as possible. They were an integral part of the Waffen-SS and did fight bravely on the Eastern Front. Afterwards they amalgamated with another French volunteer unit, the LVF and became SS-Brigade Charlemagne.

      The heroic Jewish defense of the Warsaw Ghetto is a matter of record, the people and events depicted are all based on historical accounts of that time.

      The notorious Sonderbattalion Dirlewanger is also based on true accounts of that unit. Dr Oskar Dirlewanger was a convicted child molester and served a prison sentence. The infamous reputation of his partisan-hunter battalion is sadly a matter of record. If anything, the reality of their atrocities far worse than I have described. Oskar Dirlewanger survived the war only to be captured after the surrender and reportedly beaten to death with shovels by former prisoners. There are some suggestions that he escaped and survived but they are hotly disputed and are unlikely to be true.

      Concentration camps, colloquially called katzets, short for konzentrationslagers, symbols of the ruthless Nazi genocide, mass murder and oppression across Europe were, of course, a matter of historical record. They should never be forgotten.

      Chapter One

      Man is the only animal that deals in that atrocity of atrocities, War. He is the only one that gathers his brethren about him and goes forth in cold blood and calm pulse to exterminate his kind. He is the only animal that for sordid wages will march out... and help to slaughter strangers of his own species who have done him no harm and with whom he has no quarrel.... And in the intervals between campaigns he washes the blood off his hands and works for the universal brotherhood of man - with his mouth.

      Mark Twain

      I stood at attention in front of the officer, watching him carefully. Hate, fear, contempt, pity, they were all part of the complicated relationship I had with SS-Sturmbannfuhrer Doctor Oskar Dirlewanger. He was a former infantry officer who had served in the previous war and won both the Iron Cross First and Second Class. In the current war he had already won the clasp to the Iron Cross 2nd Class, the Balkan Cross, and the German Cross in Gold. A Freikorps volunteer between the wars he studied at the University of Frankfurt where he obtained his doctorate. In 1934, he was convicted of the rape of a thirteen-year-old girl and sentenced to two years imprisonment. Afterwards Dirlewanger served with the Condor Legion in the Spanish Civil War from 1936 to 1939 and was wounded three times. He eventually became the commander of Sonderbattalion Dirlewanger, a group of partisan hunters composed of former poachers and other criminal elements. Hitler believed that the excellent shooting skills of the poachers would be put to good use in the fight against partisans. Oskar Dirlewanger was also mad. Stark, raving mad, a lunatic. He would be certified insane by any measurement of his mental condition and if his war record was taken into account, the description ‘psychotic sadist’ would not be unreasonable. Even in the slaughterhouse of the Eastern Front his reputation was legendary, put simply he was a murderous psychopath. He was also my commanding officer and I had to treat him very carefully, his propensity for excessive violence and mass-murder was not only directed at the enemy. He stared at me, his eyes glassy with the intensity of the fanatic, they burned like bright jewels in his thin, haunted and lined face. His left shoulder twitched and I had to use all my powers of self-control to remain calm. I’d seen him twitch like that on numerous occasions, normally when he was working himself into a rage, sometimes when he was about to order someone to their death.

      I need men, Schaffer, I can’t fight this war without men.

      Of course not, Sir.

      The Sonderbattalion Dirlewanger had suffered a number of losses recently, both from fighting partisans and in the recent battle with the Red Army where the battalion had been called in to reinforce the regular army at Velikiye Luki. I’d been wounded in the action as had Dirlewanger and we’d lost a number of men killed in the fierce fighting. There’d also been constant desertions, only to be expected with the kind of scum that made up a large proportion of the battalion’s ranks. We specialized in savage anti-partisan operations, which for Dirlewanger meant moving into a civilian area and murdering almost the entire population of a town or village. That kind of butchery required a special kind of mentality and most of the men drank heavily, during the operation the alcohol tended to fog men’s minds to the terrible penalties for desertion. Death by firing squad was the prescribed punishment. Others deserted because they were too sickened to take part in the murderous slaughter the battalion frequently meted out to the innocent. Personally, I had taken a different road to salvation, it involved documenting as many of the Sonderbattalion Dirlewanger’s war crimes as possible. I couldn’t stop most of them but I hoped to provide enough eyewitness evidence to hang the perpetrators when the war was over. I kept my journal well hidden, if they ever found it I would be put to death instantly. By nationality I was American and since the United States entered the war my loyalties were always held in question.

      I’m sending you to collect new recruits for the battalion, Schaffer. You’re going to Warsaw, the men are being held there in the military prison. Make sure that the recruits you get are of good character and bring them back here to Minsk.

      Yes, Sir. What do you mean by good character?

      He looked puzzled, his twitch was even more exaggerated. No Jews of course, what else would I mean?

      Sturmscharfuhrer Mintel, sitting at a small desk in the corner of the office, sniggered. I heard him mutter, Typical fucking American, all Jew lovers, under his breath. I should have remembered, of course, the world was simply divided into Jews and non-Jews for Dirlewanger and Mintel. The normal measures of human character, honesty, integrity, courage, intelligence, these were of no consequence. A man was either Jewish or he wasn’t. I wasn’t offended by Mintel’s remark either. After all, it was true that I was an American, I’d volunteered for the SS-Kriegsberichter-Abteilung, an SS Journalists unit that followed and recorded the undoubtedly brave exploits of the Waffen-SS as they fought their way through France. I was incarcerated for trying to prevent the massacre of a number of British POWs. As for the Jews, I regarded the Nazi policy on race as little more than brutal lunacy. In the previous war Jews had fought bravely and well in the horrors of the trenches. The idea that they were now plotting to take over the world was in the realms of fantasy, alongside Hitler and Himmler’s belief in Magic and Astrology. And if they wanted someone to blame for Germany’s ills I could have suggested that they would find what they sought in a mirror.

      When do I leave, Sir?

      Mintel is preparing your travel documents now, you can take one man with you and leave tomorrow, I believe there is a hospital train travelling back from Minsk at dawn. Bring the new volunteers back here and we'll distribute them amongst the platoons. I know you’ve all been understrength for some time, this will make a big difference. Everything you need to know is in the documents and travel authorizations, you’ll find a summary of each man’s military record in the packet as well. Any questions?

      No, Sir.

      Very well, good luck, I’ll expect you back here in seventy two hours. Watch those men, Schaffer, look after them, I don’t want you to lose any en-route, we need them all.

      He meant don’t let them run away, as former prisoners most of them would be thinking about deserting the second the prison gates opened. The reputation of the Eastern Front as a charnel house was well-earned. It was true that they were volunteers, but most would have volunteered for the Sonderbattalion Dirlewanger only as an alternative to the death sentence. Their motivations were not to be overly trusted.

      I’ll do my best, Sir.

      Becoming a psychotic killer, alcoholic or deserter was not the only way to deal with service in the battalion. Three of us had embarked on an alternative strategy, quite simply, we fought back, my journal was not the only weapon in our armory. We had been offered the chance to join the Dirlewanger as an alternative to a living death in a Konzentrationslager, a katzet, or concentration camp. Together with Scharfuhrer Karl-Heinz Brandt and Schutze Gerd Rundheim I was plucked from Mauthausen concentration camp in Austria, a place of sickening brutality and death. When the scale of mass murders that the Battalion was involved in became obvious to us, we decided to take every chance to prevent or obstruct the worst of the killings that we were ordered to carry out. It was the only way we could stay alive and yet hit back at the sickening brutality of the Nazi regime. We’d even made contact with the resistance and more than one of Dirlewanger’s murderous missions had walked into a partisan ambush. Karl-Heinz and Gerd were waiting anxiously in the courtyard outside our quarters.

      No, there’s nothing wrong, I smiled. We’re going to Warsaw, just a three day trip.

      Their eyes lit up. Not you, I’m afraid, Karl-Heinz, I need you to take over the platoon. Gerd, you’ll come with me, we’re to pick up a group of recruits and bring them back here.

      He smiled. I can’t wait to see the bright lights of Warsaw again. You’ll be calling on Anna while we’re there?

      Anna Ostrowski was a Polish dressmaker. I’d met her when we were stationed in Warsaw, she was a fiery young Polish girl that I’d fallen head over heels in love with. She was also a member of the Polish resistance.

      You can count on it, Gerd.

      I spent the evening reading through the records of our new ‘recruits’. It made grim reading, they truly were the scum of the earth, even for Dirlewanger’s low standards. The following morning we prepared to board a train bound for Warsaw, its main cargo was broken, wounded men. SS-Feldgendarmerie, the military police, had set up a post on the platform and were checking everyone’s papers.

      Purpose of travel to Warsaw?

      He was an arrogant young Sturmscharfuhrer, an SS Sergeant Major, very conscious of his power and authority.

      We are going to collect recruits for Sonderbattalion Dirlewanger.

      He looked up. Can’t they come here themselves, why do you need to travel to the rear to bring them back?

      I sighed and moved nearer to him. Because, Sturmscharfuhrer, they’re all former prisoners. Murderers, rapists. Probably a few police killers too. I’m sure you know of the Sonderbattalion Dirlewanger’s reputation, we’ve already got a few of those in our ranks.

      He nodded and swallowed as I went on.

      If we let them travel without supervision they’ll go on a rampage of rape and murder along the way and when they do get here they’ll be so drunk they’ll cut your balls off as soon as they see you. Was there anything else?

      He handed me back my papers with a shaking hand. Proceed.

      Gerd laughed when we boarded the train. That little story shook him up.

      It was no story Gerd. I’ve read the files of this little lot and they’re bad, very bad. I didn’t exaggerate.

      In that case they’ll find a natural home for themselves within the battalion.

      We walked through the coaches, passing scores of wounded men groaning in agony, it was not a comfortable way to travel for sick and dying men, the facilities were basic indeed. Hard wooden cots, hastily thrown together to convert the coach into use as a hospital transport and there were too few nurses to tend to the thousands of patients. Over everything hung the rank stench of urine, feces and stale, unwashed bodies. It wasn’t the first hospital train I’d been on, but it was probably the worst. Eventually we found a passenger coach and sat down as the train lurched away from the station.

      A man came joined us in our compartment, a Roman Catholic priest. I’d seen him on the platform before we left, he was talking earnestly with a senior cleric, a man in the distinctive robes of the Orthodox Church, he could even have been a Metropolitan, their equivalent of a Bishop, perhaps an Archbishop of the Orthodox church, but I wasn’t too sure of the hierarchies. In the middle of this brutal war, I could well imagine that the need for spiritual guidance and comfort would be higher than ever. The priest smiled benignly at us and held out his hand.

      It seems we are to travel together, I am Father Florian, Florian Zywicki of the Society of Jesus, I’m travelling to Warsaw. And you are?

      We introduced ourselves, he looked surprised.

      Obersturmfuhrer Schaffer? What a coincidence, would you by any chance know Anna Ostrowski, she’s a dressmaker? She mentioned a friend of hers, an SS officer named Paul Schaffer.

      Yes, guilty as charged, Father, how is it that you know her? I smiled. Any news of Anna was more than welcome.

      He seemed to be choosing his words with care. Shall we say that Miss Ostrowski and I move in the same circles?

      I could feel Gerd nudging me to be careful, but I knew what the priest was hinting at, he was involved with the resistance. But there was no need for Gerd’s concern, I was already wary, this priest could be anyone, even a Gestapo informer, until Anna vouched for him he wouldn’t be trusted.

      Circles? I don’t understand.

      He nodded. No, I don’t suppose it’s something you would care to discuss with a stranger. I am an aide to the German Apostolic Administrator, Hilarius Breitinger, leader of the Catholic Church in Poland. Amongst other things, Anna is one of my parishioners. Are you Catholic, my son?

      I shook my head. Used to be, not any more.

      He grimaced. They say that once you are in, you never really leave, not inside your heart. Was it the war? Did it destroy your faith?

      The last thing I needed was to get into a discussion about faith with a Jesuit. He was tall, lean, fit and tough looking, his hair cropped short, looking every inch a soldier, which of course he was, a soldier of God, a member of the elite Society of Jesus founded by Ignatius Loyola to combat the tide of reform that swept across renaissance Europe. His black robe was immaculate and beautifully cut, clearly he was no humble village priest. I did not know enough about him to trust him, but I guessed he would make a formidable opponent. The question was whose side was he on? The Polish resistance, the Vatican? Or the Nazis? Anything was possible.

      Something like that, yes. I prefer not to talk about it, I replied firmly.

      He nodded. In that case I won’t talk about it.

      I was curious about the Orthodox priest I’d seen him talking to on the railway station platform in Minsk. Sometimes, people trying to hide something or appear inconspicuous achieve the opposite effect. So it was with the two priests, there was something furtive about the two men.

      Are you considering going over to the Russian Orthodox church, Father?

      What? he looked up, his face had gone pale and drawn, his expression all of a sudden confused and wary. What makes you think that?

      He was staring at me intently, I’d obviously touched on a sensitive subject.

      I saw you talking with the Orthodox priest on the platform at Minsk. I just wondered. Or is it the other way around, is he thinking about becoming a Catholic?

      He seemed to sigh with relief. No, not at all, but although our churches are separate, we still have many things in common.

      I see.

      He watched me for a few more moments and then picked up a book to read, I glanced at the title, it looked like the bible. In Russian, that was interesting.

      The train rolled through the Belorussian countryside and I started to doze. It was quite warm, a fine spring morning in contrast to the appalling cold and wet we’d suffered for the past few months. I was thinking of Anna’s beautiful face, her warm smile, her eyes shining as we talked or made love. I would see her soon, I could almost feel her firm body pressed close to mine and smell the faint, rich musk of her body. That was when the train started to brake and the first bullets struck the next coach along the line of wagons.

      Down, everybody get on the floor, I shouted, Gerd was already flinging himself down and so, I noticed was the priest. There were four others in our compartment, they all looked like desk warriors, rear area soldiers, lawyers, clerks, storemen and cooks. They hesitated for a few seconds, probably worried about cowering in the dirt of the filthy railway carriage but I shouted again and they moved.

      Gerd, come with me, we’ll get to the end of the coach and shoot back at them from outside.

      He nodded and we started towards the door.

      What is it, what’s going on? a tubby army major asked me, clutching his bulky leather briefcase to his chest. He’d need more than that to stop a Soviet bullet.

      Partisan ambush, major, are you armed?

      I have my pistol, he said, pulling a gleaming, new Luger Parabellum out of an immaculate, unmarked, polished brown leather holster. The Luger was a very powerful and accurate pistol, firing a 9mm Parabellum round, popular with many officers. Those who had money to afford the high cost of such a beautiful weapon.

      Have you ever fired it at an enemy?

      He looked shamefaced and

      Enjoying the preview?
      Page 1 of 1