Part 17 (1/2)

”Si, General!”

Ben walked back to Lieutenant Ballard. ”Position your people to the rear, Jackie. This is the fight of our new people. Let's see how they work.”

”Yes, sir.”

Ben walked the lines, and was impressed at how quickly and proficiently the new battalions worked. He concluded that they had been thoroughly trained by experts. Up to now, the only thing lacking had been motivation. Now they had it.

Colonel Garcia approached him. ”General ...”

”It's your show, Colonel,” Ben cut him off. ”You call the shots. I'mjust an observer.”

The young colonel knew that he and his command were being tested by the experienced older warrior. And he knew this was one test that none of them could afford to fail. He had looked into the eyes of all the Rebels, young and not so young. Jorge Garcia had seen years of 200.

combat experience in those eyes. These Rebels were experts at war. Even now, with hordes of SS troops advancing toward their position, many of the Rebels were resting on the ground, some reading worn books, some eating, some even asleep. They were, amazingly, utterly, totally calm.

Jorge had never seen anything like it.

”Si, General Lobo,” Jorge said. ”We will not fail you.”

Ben smiled, not taking offense at being called a wolf. ”I'm counting on that, Colonel. The last thing I want is a n.a.z.i bayonet up my b.u.t.t.”

”That will not happen,” Jorge said.

Ben nodded and watched as the colonel trotted off, yelling orders in rapid-fire Spanish. All of the new people had some English, but Ben had okayed the use of Spanish until all of Jorge's people could master a new language.

”Ten miles out, sir,” Corrie called. ”Coming hard. They have towed artillery.”

Colonel Garcia had his own spotters out with Ben's Scouts, and he was receiving the word at the same time as Ben. Ben sat down in a camp chair and rolled a cigarette.

”Preparado,” Garcia spoke into his mic, his voice calm. Ben was a thousand or so meters behind the lines, monitoring Garcia's orders by radio.

The crews manning the 155s locked in HE, WP, and M449 antipersonnel rounds. The M-449 rounds each contained dozens of grenades and they were highly effective rounds.

”Good choice of rounds,” Ben said, after thanking Cooper for a fresh cup of coffee.

The SS troops were well in range of the 155s, and still 201.

Colonel Garcia held his fire. Ben smiled at that. Jorge knew his business. At eighteen miles this type of 155 could be accurate within approximately one hundred yards of its target. But the closer the target, the more accurate the big guns became.

The Rebels had stopped their reading and sleeping now, and were watching the crews preparing their howitzers for battle. The infantry battalions were dug in deep, the positions staggered in the shape of a huge and very wide U. This country was perfect for concealment and surprise, and Colonel Garcia was using it to its utmost.

”Six miles out,” Corrie said. ”And closing.” She paused, a thoughtfulexpression on her face. ”Whoever is commanding those SS troops is an arrogant fool, General,” she added.

”You're right,” Ben said. ”They should be stopping and getting their artillery in place to soften us up. Instead, they just keep barreling on. Right about now they're entering the first perimeters of the U.

Jorge knows what he's doing. He's impressing the h.e.l.l out of me. Jorge is going to give those SS troops a real nasty surprise.”

Lieutenant Jackie Ballard leisurely strolled by. Cooper noticed with a very appreciative eye that she filled out her jeans remarkably well.

”Down, boy,” Jersey told him, noticing the direction his eyes were traveling.

”It ain't no crime to look,” Cooper replied. ”Is it, General?”

”d.a.m.n sure isn't,” Ben said. Ben always had an eye for the ladies.

”Fuego!” Colonel Garcia shouted, and the ground 202.

beneath their boots began to tremble as the 155s roared into action.

Whatever the SS troops expected, it certainly was not this rain of death that began hailing down on them from the skies. Jorge Garcia had aligned his guns with graduated elevation. The first mile of the SS convoy was suddenly turned into an exploding inferno. Bodies were ripped and torn apart and b.l.o.o.d.y bits and pieces hurled high into the hot smoky air. As those toward the rear began leaping from trucks in an attempt to escape the barrage, Jorge ordered his gunners to fire their antipersonnel rounds. It got real interesting for the SS troops when those started landing. The ground around the panicked SS troops, no matter which way they ran, turned deadly as the grenades began exploding.

Spanish armies have for centuries been big on bugles, and this one was no different. As the last rounds struck, Colonel Garcia shouted, ”Ataque!” and about twenty-five bugles blew.

Ben nearly left his seat, for he had not noticed the trumpeters gathering a few yards behind him.

”Jesus H. Christ!” Jersey hollered, jumping up and looking wildly all around her.

Cooper had just lifted a coffee mug to his lips and when the bugles blew he spilled the whole cup down the front of his s.h.i.+rt. Beth was writing in her journal, and when the attack bugles blew, her pen went one way and the journal went another. Come had just taken off her earphones when the bugles blew, and she fell off the tailgate of a pickup truck, landing on her b.u.t.t.

Ben looked at his team and started laughing, the laughter just audible over the bugles. Cooper was jumping around hollering, trying to get out of his steaming 203.

s.h.i.+rt, Jersey was wild-eyed, Beth looked numb, and Corrie just lookeddisgusted.

And the bugles continued to blow while Ben was cracking up with laughter.

Ben rode with Colonel Garcia up to the smoky field of death. The colonel's troops were just finis.h.i.+ng off the last of the SS troops, and they were not being gentle in dealing with them. Garcia had ordered no prisoners taken, and his soldiers were following his orders to the letter.

A few of the SS troops were begging for mercy, for Heaven's sake.

”Compasion, dios!” they cried. What they got was a bullet, for the South American allies of the Rebels were well aware of Hoffman's orders should they be taken prisoner, and they knew the SS troops would be happy to execute them on the spot, and take great joy in doing so.

”Gather up all the weapons and other usable equipment, Colonel,” Ben instructed. ”And equipment that even looks like it might be repairable.

That's the Rebel way. We fix it up and store it.”

”It is a very good way,” Jorge agreed. ”And one that we shall adopt, beginning now.”

”Your troops were excellent in battle, Colonel,” Ben complimented him.

”Superb.”

Colonel Garcia drew himself up to his full height, which was a good half a foot shorter than Ben. ”We are Rebels now, General,” he said proudly.

”Anything less than perfection would not please me.”

Ben smiled and patted the man on the shoulder. ”Lighten up, Jorge. In battle, striving for absolute 204.

perfection is a good way to get killed. We just do the best we can and then get the h.e.l.l gone. The Rebels do stand and slug it out from time to time, but we're at our best doing what Jim Bowie advocated. Cut, slash, and run.”

”I know who that is!” Cooper said. ”He was killed at the Alamo, right, General?”