At around 3 p.m. in the afternoon, the first military trucks rumbled out of the school’s courtyard, packed with soldiers, artillery, and supplies. At the very front were four German tanks, crushing anything that lay in their way.
Paul and Ramirez had already decided to stage an ambush. After so calculation and with the help of locals who suggested suitable spots, they finally settled on one. A perfect place, where the main road was sandwiched between two cliffs, essentially, a pass.
"What about our reinforcents, Hasso?"Paul shouted, towards Hasso who was watching the road from the tank next to his.
Hasso leaned back into his tank."I will ask Command again..." he said, slipping inside.
After a while Hasso’s head poked out again; he shook it and shouted, "They’re still entangled. High Command has left the situation to our discretion, but they advised us to retreat."
A small smile escaped Paul’s lips. Of course they were on their own. Those were the victories that brought the most rit, he thought, the smile already vanishing.
"We advance," Paul ordered plainly.
A few minutes later the Spanish battalion, led by the German tank platoon, arrived at the designated position. Brakes squealed and soldiers jumped down from their trucks.
Paul and Hasso climbed out as well, assessing the situation.
They were right on the main road, surrounded by hilly country; thick but dry vegetation clung to the slopes.
Soon the burly major walked toward them. "Ramírez," Paul greeted.
"Jaeger," Ramírez answered, broken, having trouble pronouncing it.
Paul turned to Hasso. "How much ti?"
"The Luftwaffe spotted them five kilotres away," Hasso said. "Considering they’re made up almost entirely of infantry..."
"We have to be ready in fifteen minutes," Paul interrupted.
The major, who had been listening to his translator, nodded and shouted to a few officers unloading an artillery piece.
"So, regarding artillery: we have four 75 mm cannons and two mortar teams. How about we place the mortar teams on those two hills, hidden by the dry bushes?" Paul pointed toward nearby rises.
"The cannons should be placed a little further back because of their firing angles," the major replied.
"I like the mortar positions," he added. "We’ll place the cannons — don’t worry about them. Where will you and your tanks go?"
"If my information is correct, the Republican regints don’t have any anti-tank guns."
Yet. Paul added quitly, thinking about the Soviet guns they would soon get.
"They only have so light armored cars, so I propose a pincer attack: two tanks from the front and two from the rear, supported by your armored cars and perhaps so infantry. The rest of our and your infantry can hold the hills and attack when the situation is favorable."
"That’s a good strategy, Oberleutnant. Yet we should still keep a reserve force in case the attack fails."
"You can form a reserve; I won’t. I’m gambling everything on this one card," Paul said, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"As you wish. I will instruct my n. I advise you to do the sa," the major answered.
Paul nodded and then turned to address his n. "n, we will lay an ambush here. A regint of Spaniards will be coming down this road in about twenty minutes. I want you ready in ten — understood?"
"Yes, sir!" they echoed.
"Good. I want Hauer’s and Ritter’s tanks to hit from the rear; wait for the first exchange of fire before you break cover. Lieutenant Hasso and I will co from the front. Sergeant Buchmann and Sergeant Klein, your squads will support the frontal assault. The other two squads will support from the rear. The Spaniards will also reinforce with so armored cars and infantry."
"Everything understood?" Paul asked, his voice cold, his eyes searching for even a hint of reluctance, he found none. "This will be a hard fight. The enemy outnumbers us roughly two to one, but we will make it. Every one of you will earn honour and fa after this."
The soldiers’ eyes sparkled, already imagining the reactions of their comrades when they heard what was about to happen.
"Then move out, take your positions and wait for the right mont."
After so hectic movents, shouting n, tanks rumbling, an eerie silence fell.
Paul and his tank crew were hidden behind a small hill beside the road, their vehicle draped with dry bushes and partly concealed by a lonely tree.
"Ten minutes until air support arrives?" Paul asked. Hasso nodded. "Good..."
Before Paul could finish, a sound made him turn toward the road. It grew closer and closer, but it was only a single engine.
"A scout?" Paul whispered. The others had not engaged yet, that ant it really was a scout, he thought, and motioned for the n around him to crouch lower.
The armored car drove past without noticing a thing.
Hasso sighed; so of the enormous pressure lifted.
"Man the tanks, their main force will be here soon!" Paul ordered, quickly climbing onto his turret.
He was proven right. After a minute or two a loud whistle blew, the signal Ramírez and Paul had agreed upon.
At that sound the tension snapped taut.
"Let’s go!" Paul shouted. The engines howled imdiately afterward.
Other noises erupted too: gunfire, artillery, and the desperate screams that belong to every battlefield.
Paul soon saw the long column of trucks, soldiers and armored cars on the road before them. They spotted him too, and their approach was t with heavy fire.
Paul and Hasso responded quickly; the 7 mm MGs erupted, spitting hellfire into the infantry. Blood ran everywhere, while so armored cars moved to block their lines of fire. Enemy soldiers dived behind them, firing desperately at the incoming tanks.
Grenades went off all around, throwing up a spray of dirt and sand and leaving holes or corpses, luck decided which.
After the first strike proved successful, the whistle sounded a second ti. Hundreds of n ca running down the hillsides, shouting and firing at the overwheld but still nurically superior Spanish force.
Their rush t fierce resistance. The Spaniards, already realising their predicant, had managed to assemble rudintary MG positions.
The Spanish drove their trucks in an attempt to form so kind of defence against the incoming waves of soldiers. They arranged them in a rough circle, firing through the open backs or gaps between the vehicles.
Soldier after soldier fell, both sides suffering loss after loss. Blood filled the battlefield.
Then — a loud sound ca from above. Paul, whose tank was still firing, lifted his eyes. Our reinforcents?
Yet before the soldiers could cheer, they saw what kind of plane was descending. It was a Spanish aircraft, already opening fire on the Nationalist positions.
The plane circled repeatedly, spitting fire from above, before setting its focus on the tanks. It drew another circle, adjusting its nose directly toward Paul’s tank.
Paul’s eyes widened, and he shouted for the driver to evade the incoming barrage of bullets.
Before the driver could even react, the enemy plane erupted in flas, a blazing ball falling from the sky.
Paul’s gaze raced to the other side, where several more planes appeared. The pilot who had been shot down even flew close to them, wagging his wings in a grand display.
He balled his fists, and the sound of cheers rose outside.
The tide of battle soon turned in their favor. With the new air support overhead, the soldiers’ spirits rose once again, and they attacked even more ferociously.
Spaniard after Spaniard fell.
Paul ordered his tank to break through the Spaniards’ makeshift wall of trucks. A deafening boom echoed as the tank collided, the tal shrieking and bending under its weight. Slowly, relentlessly, the tank pushed the wreck aside, forcing its way into the heart of the Spanish lines.
The other tanks soon followed, Hasso’s from behind, and the other two from the front.
Waves of allied soldiers rushed over and through the trucks, firing at any Spaniards still resisting.
Soon, the sound of gunfire faded. Silence returned once more, until a lone soldier suddenly shouted, "Ganamos!" ("We won!")
More and more cries of victory followed, drowning out the sight of death and destruction lying beneath their feet. The only other sound echoing through the valley was that of crows picking at the remains of the dead.
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