Norsemen!

Halfdan had been in charge of the Hard Corps for several years, sense Yngvilder became a pilot and started working closer with the State house. When General Jackson proposed they become a recon unit he was excited. They would do all their work behind enemy lines to include sabotage of enemy sites. This is what a warrior was supposed to be doing , he thought.

Since the start of hostilities he and most of his Corps had been behind the Greek lines observing troop movements and build up, reporting back to base what they find. Only once did they destroy an enemy supply site and made it look like it was caused by the men around it, which left them clear of anyone searching for them. But now, he just got word from the rear that pilots had been shot down and they were to go on a search and rescue mission to find the pilots. To him he did not see a problem until he got word that Yngvilder was among those lost. He sent word to his second in command, Frode, who was out scouting the area to make sure they would stay concealed from the enemy in these forested hills.

He passed word to his junior officers and NCO’s about the pilots with a search area given them by General Jackson. Small parties of troops were out looking now for them but he had to wait for Frodes return before they expanded it, he controlled the other half of this group of recon. Some of the pilots were reported to have dropped over one hundred miles from his site so they would have to move quickly.

As he was sitting next to his radio operator listening to reports, Frode came in, silent as a ghost.

“I heard out there we have a search and rescue going on now?” He asked as he sat down, grabbing a piece of bread to munch on.

“How the hell did you hear about that way out there?” Halfdan asked with a smile.

“Well...,” he smiled as he bit off a piece of bread. “I AM recon!”

Halfdan chuckled.

“I wish I could see their faces sometimes,” Frode said as he sat.

“What do you mean?” Halfdan asked.

“Well...when we find a Greek...or two...we kill them and bury the bodies in the woods so they think they are deserters. What if they found them?” he smiled.

“You think they would go crazy or something? I mean...here they have dead comrades and don’t know WHO killed them. It would be like a ghost or something to them,” he laughed.

“Yngvilder is among those missing pilots!” He told him and Frode froze with the bread half in his mouth.

“YNGVILDER? OUR Yngvilder?” Frode looked surprised.

“Yes. She got shot down somewhere in this area,” he pointed to a map showing and area about fifty miles away.

“WOW! It’ll take us two days to get there. I hope she doesn’t get captured, no telling what those Greeks will do to her.” Frode said looking a bit confounded.

“I know so we have to move fast. I all ready spread the word we will move as soon as the last patrol comes in tonight.” Halfdan said as he began to pack up his gear.

“The General knows we will not report any findings unless it is an emergency so our main task is finding these pilots and getting them home.” Halfdan said as he tied his pack closed.

“No more radio contact until we move into the search area.” He said then stood.

Major Walsh stepped into the State house and was astonished at the site. It was as if someone stirred an ant bed with all the activity, radios in the corner, maps on the walls, officers and troops going back and forth and the noise they made! He asked an officer where he could find the Gunny or General Jackson and he pointed to the rear of the room.

General Jackson was talking with the Gunny as he approached, then turned away leaving the Gunny to face him

“OH! Welcome Major Welsh!” The Gunny said sticking out his hand.

“Thank you , Gunny. It was a long trip getting here but I’m glad I came,” he turned slightly. “I’m impressed!”

“Yes, well. It was all a necessary evil I think.” He handed some papers to an aid.

“I came to report on that bombing raid and to check on our air defenses.” Major Welsh said. “I can’t raise my rear in Great Briton from out there so I was going to ask if i could use your transmitter here.”

“Of course,” Gunny pointed to the radio section along the side of the room.

“Help your self, Major.”

After several tries he was able to get through to his air minister and question him on the production of more aircraft and reinforcements if any. He decided some time ago to call his unit the BEF, British Expeditionary Force, what it was called from his own time. He was told they had several dozen more fighters ready and six bombers with more on the assembly line. Munitions, supply and troops were still being gathered and would be sent upon his word to his location. This was reported to the Gunny and General Jackson.

“Great news, Major. Great!” General Jackson said as he stood near a table with a cup of coffee.

“No chance there is a cup of tea around is it?” Major asked with a grin.

“Sorry, Major. We will have to take India or North Africa for that,” he chuckled.

“Might not be a bad idea if for nothing else but a good cup of tea!” Major smiled.

"Tea and crumpets?” Jackson asked, smiling.

“OH NO!” Major Walsh said as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Ceylon tea with a bit of cake, thank you very much!” He said as he sipped the coffee and Jackson chuckled.

“Personally I could go for a giant cheese burger and fries!” Jackson laughed.

“Gentlemen!” Skipper came up in a hurry.

“We have reports the Greeks have fallen back around Dusseldorf all the way to Aachen!” He pointed to the map.

“What the hell?” General Jackson said as he looked at the map. “Why?”

“Apparently the Germans and Saxons planned a dual attack and actually kicked their butts!” Skipper said with a smile. “Thousands of prisoners!”

"So...the Germans and Saxons have learned how to fight I see!" Gunny said with a smile.

“Well that’s good to hear but what about their air force?” Major Welsh asked. “They have a large force that triples our count but their planes are not very good. No armor.”

“Yes I heard. They can flame easy.” General Jackson said. “Like the Japanese Zero in World War Two.”

“Yes but like the Russians against Germany, they have a hell of a lot more than we do.” Skipper added. “That might be our downfall like it was for Germany."

“I think not, Skipper. Our factories are all over Briton and are working twenty-four seven on these.” Major Walsh said. “Also on tanks and weaponry.”

The Hard Corps had been on the move for four days until they arrived at the site General Jackson said most of the pilots went down, near a town called Trier, near the Luxembourg border, about thirty miles behind the enemy lines. On the way they had discovered the Greek retreat and they seemed to be in a panic in their rear. Large amounts of troops running away with officers shooting some as they fled. Their Sergeant Major, Anderson, who used to be a Private First Class in the U.S.Marine Corps said the Russians did the same thing to their troops in a war where he is from.

“Sergeant Major!” Helfdan asked as they set up for the night. “You said the Russians did this?”

“Yeah....anyone that ran away was shot by what they called Commissars, that was the political leader.”

“Shooting their own troops! That is something I can not even imagine!” Frode said.

There was a commotion near the bushes they were concealed in, the sounds of scrapping feet and grunting as three Hard Corps pulled a bloodied pilot near Frode. He was still conscious but in a lot of pain with blood covering his face and most of his upper torso. His uniform did not look familiar, it was a brown color and when he spoke he had a strange accent but it was English.

“Sergent Major!” Helfdan called. “Can you me tell what he is saying?”

“OH!” He chuckled. “He’s and Englishman.”

The Sergent Major helped pull the man to a comfortable position.

“We’re here to get you home, don’t worry.” He said then had their corpsman patch him up as best they could.

“How many more are out there? Do you know?” He asked him.

“I don’t have a clue,” he grunted as the doc put a new bandage on his ribs. “I saw several of my pilots go down, all about the same area, right around here. We’ve been here for three days so some might be captured and others might not have made it.”

He moved a bit to get more comfortable.

“Do you have any water and food?” He asked.

Yngvilder tried to crawl deeper into the bush she was hiding in when she heard foot steps again near by. For three days she had been moving due north trying to keep clear of any Greek troops but they seemed to be searching for all the downed pilots. For three days she has had no water and nothing to eat and it was draining her strength drastically. As she crawled backwards, she felt as if all her strength drained doing only that but she had to try. Barely keeping her eyes open, she tried to listen as the steps got closer then she heard voices very close to her, she froze.

“κοίτα εκεί,” someone said in a commanding voice as if mad.

“Κοίταξα εκεί έτοιμοι!” came another voice from behind her.

She felt someone pull her leg, then excited yelling.

“ΤΗΝ ΒΡΗΚΑ!....ΤΗΝ ΒΡΗΚΑ!" A Greek soldier yelled as he pulled her from under the bush.

Excited voices as they grabbed her arms, lifting her roughly then started dragging her down a road. She heard more talking but soon passed out.

By the end of the next day the Hard Corps had found three more pilots, two were Norse and one was another British pilot. So they had to find an area they could use as a staging point. After that they had to arrange a way to get them back to the rear and to safety, which was not going to be easy but they had enough food and supplies to last for awhile if they had to. Frode called the rear to ask for instruction on the pilots but while waiting one of his troops came in excited.

"Sir," he said out of breath.

"We found Yngvilder but the Greeks got to her first so we held back. Followed them to a camp not far from here."

"Good you held back. We don't want them knowing we are here." Halfdan said.

"We'll have to go take a look and see what we can do but it has to be quick. They will probably move her by tomorrow." the Sergeant Major said.

"I agree," Frode said as he took out his knife to cut a piece of rope.

The Hard Corps began packing up to move, following the scout that found ,down a dirt road. The wounded pilots were left in the rear and only ten troops came along for silence, more would have made too much noise. Off to the side of the road was a clearing with a dozen tents set up in what looked like a communication center with several antennas about the camp. Halfdan motioned for three troops to go right and scout while they waited.

A half an hour later, when it was totally dark, they returned.

"OK! On the right there is only one guard, a large tent with heavy wires, obviously a main comm tent."

"Any sign of where they would put a prisoner?" Frode asked.

"No. It's pretty quiet. They feel safe this far behind the lines."

Halfdan motioned them all to him.

"I want two, you and you," he pointed two troops out. "To go to the left side, over by those rocks and set up the machine gun to cover us if we need it. Everyone else follow me to the right. We will take the guard...DO NOT KILL HIM...and see if he knows where she is. If not, we move to the next one." He paused.

"If and WHEN we are seen...I want every one of you to fall back right here. This is the rally point. Then we beat feet out of here. Got it?" As an after thought. "Try not to shoot. If we go in and get out without firing they MAY think we are villagers stealing food."

They began to move as if ghost in the dark, around the tents to where the lone guard was.