The Uvalde Raider by Ben English (great books for teens TXT) 📕

“Yes Unterfeldwebel, you are undoubtably correct. However, you have stopped him from doing so and killing him now would only complicate matters further. Besides, he is not much of anything without this.” Max picked up Strieber’s Luger from the muddy ground, inspecting it closely. He cleared the round from the chamber and wiped the pistol clean as best he could.

“I will take possession of this weapon though, for good measure.” Max bent down, removing the leather gun belt from the waist of the grimacing SS officer. The obersturmführer gave no protest or resistance as Max inserted the Luger into the holster and put the belt and gear around his waist. Somewhat reluctantly, the senior sergeant brought the muzzle of the Mauser up and methodically made his own weapon safe. After doing so, he ordered the other soldiers to do the same.

Looking down on the SS officer, the Luftwaffe hauptmann spoke to him. “I have a suggestion for you, Obersturmführer Strieber. If you are so determined to shoot enemies of the Reich, you can begin walking to the east to meet them. They are called the Red Army and they are coming by the millions.” Max paused a moment to let it all sink in for the other man. “Be forewarned, though. I can tell you from personal experience that unlike helpless civilians, they have the disconcerting habit of shooting back.”

Max turned away from Strieber, confident the senior sergeant was still watching the obersturmführer. He moved closer to the mixed crowd of both civilians and soldiers who stood there, still processing what had occurred in their presence. Stepping up to the top of the dirt embankment, Max addressed them all in a loud, clear voice.

“I am Hauptmann Maximilian Friedrich Grephardt, lately of Jagdgeschwader 52 of the Luftwaffe.” A murmur stirred through the throng as some recognized his name and accompanying fame from the recent past. Max motioned to the SS officer still sitting woodenly in the middle of the narrow road. “That man will no longer constitute a threat to any of you. You are free to come or go as you please. Do know the Bolsheviks are indeed behind us and the Western Allies are to our front. I would advise you to continue west if you are going anyplace, but that choice is yours.

“We Germans have lost this war,” continued Max, “and in a far more telling way than we lost the last. The time for fighting is over and I pray it never comes to us again. What you must do now is take care of yourselves, your families and what is left of our Fatherland. Do not forget this because from this point forward, that is what it means to be a good German. Mach’s gut, and may God go with each and every one of you.”

The crowd milled around astray for a while more, undecided about their next move. Then slowly, gradually, the vast majority started trekking west again while others sought shelter nearby. Max made his way back to the rickety chair for a bit more rest, and to look around for that errant tar shingle before he continued on. He found his path blocked by the senior sergeant, who placed the Mauser butt down smartly to his side and saluted.

“Herr Hauptmann, what do you require of myself and my men?”

“The same as of our people, Unterfeldwebel” Max replied. “Your men can go as they please, individually or as a group. They may return to their unit, if they have a mind to do so. But whatever they do, remind them that as long as they wear the uniform of the Wehrmacht Herr, they will conduct themselves accordingly.”

For the first time, the senior sergeant appeared a bit unsure of himself but persisted nonetheless. “Hauptmann, if I may be so bold, might I inquire into your own plans?”

Max studied the hardened veteran who had saved him from certain death only seconds before. “Unterfeldwebel, I plan to continue west and to surrender myself to the Americans at the earliest opportunity. For me, I am done with this war.”

The senior sergeant was thoughtful for a moment, still standing at attention. “Hauptmann, if possible, it would be an honor to accompany you. I started as an obersoldat with Field Marshal Rommel in North Africa, in 1941, and it seems I have been fighting ever since. The time has come to stop.”

Max quietly considered the request and then nodded affirmatively. “You are welcome to come along, Unterfeldwebel, as are any of your men who choose to do so. It will probably go better for them to surrender as a group than to try to go home at present.

“Tell the men who choose to accompany us to make ready. They will be required to keep their weapons for defensive purposes and are to behave as German soldiers. We are still in the middle of this wretched war and all which that entails. Moreover, I am certain there are more Obersturmführer Striebers lurking about.” At the mention of the name, both men looked down the road. The SS officer had finally picked himself up and was walking unsteadily to the east against the rising tide of refugees.

“Jawohl, Hauptmann.” The senior sergeant saluted again, bringing his Mauser up to port arms. He conducted a sharp about face and started back to the other soldiers. The unterfeldwebel had gone no more than five paces when he stopped abruptly, did another about face and brought himself back to the position of attention.

“Hauptmann, if I may ask, would you by any chance be from the Meiningen area?” he queried respectfully.

“Yes, my home was north of there, along the banks of the Werra.”

“Were you familiar with a Willy Grephardt, an officer in the 267th Regiment of the Wehrmacht Heer?”

“He was my brother, Unterfeldwebel.” Max replied evenly.

“I knew him in Italy”,