No Less Than Victory (World War II: 1939-1945, #3)

by Jeff Shaara

reports!” He backed away from the map, saw Bedell Smith standing beside

amazing, George. How much strength are you talking about?” Patton was annoyed again, didn’t see anything amazing about it. “Three divisions. The Fourth Armored, the Twenty-sixth and Eightieth infantry.” Eisenhower looked down, shook his head. “That may not be enough, George.” “If you want me to move the whole damn Third Army, I can do that too. But it won’t be done in three days. Seems to me, by looking at your map, Hodges doesn’t need help eventually, he needs it right now.

no one had any answers. TROIS PONTS, BELGIUM DECEMBER 22, 1944, 11 P.M. “We really don’t know

The best way to defend is to attack and the best way to attack is to attack. At Chancellorsville, Lee was asked why he attacked when he was outnumbered three to one. He said he was too weak to defend. —GEORGE PATTON

than

likely to fill your boots now than before, no freezing nights to stiffen the ground where the men might have to sleep. Benson wasn’t complaining. They marched only in daylight, advancing on an enemy who still kicked up a fight, who staged ambushes and laid booby traps with frightening efficiency. At night, the work was left to the artillery, American units blanketing the ground all out in front of their own infantry, what the foot soldiers considered to be a perfect substitute for night patrols. Benson didn’t complain about that either. The mud was not the worst part of the early spring. As the snow disappeared, the ground gave up the bodies of so many who had died throughout the winter’s battles, some from well before the German thrust in mid-December. As the soldiers marched eastward, any open field could offer up a fresh wave of stink, the sickening smell of once-frozen men whose bodies now were opening up to every kind of biological violation. The smells came from other sources too, of course, immense numbers of farm animals, cattle mostly, carcasses upturned, some scattered among the faceless corpses of soldiers. Benson had noticed more of the horrific green skin of the German dead, what someone said was caused by the poor diet of their soldiers. After so many days, the sights failed to sicken, too many to notice, Benson’s brain masking it all. But there was no escaping the awful smell, though after a time even that became acceptable, a strange kind of normal that inf...