Operation Storm Forge: The Pursuit

The sun came up as Katsaros and his team marched through the hilly countryside.  The bridge was gone, but they knew it was not over yet. They had to get out.

We need to keep moving,” Katsaros said, his voice low and urgent. “They’ll be searching for us by now. The Germans won’t stop until they find us.”

Pavlos nodded, scanning the horizon. The sun was barely above the mountains, casting long shadows over the fields. Every movement felt like a potential threat. The team knew they couldn’t risk stopping for long.

It was a simple plan: find a safe spot, lay low, and figure out their next move. But finding safety in enemy territory was always a challenge.

Hours passed as they moved through dense forests, crossed small streams, and avoided any roads or paths where the Germans might have patrols. Every now and then, they’d stop to rest, but only briefly. They didn’t have time to relax. The German soldiers were undoubtedly on their trail, and soon they would be closing in.

“We need a place to hide,” Georgiou said after a long stretch of silent movement. “We can’t keep running like this.”

“I know,” Katsaros replied, his eyes darting around, searching for any sign of shelter. “We’ll find somewhere to hole up. Just keep your eyes open.”

Finally, what felt like centuries of pushing through the woods brought an abandoned farmhouse in the distance. The old place was old, worn from the passing years and the indifference shown it, but it might at least serve for one night’s refuge.

“We can make it by dark,” Katsaros said tightly, his voice, “Keep close to the ground.”

They headed toward the farmhouse, each man moving with a purpose, covering ground without making a sound. The closer they got, the more anxious Katsaros became. By now, the Germans would be looking for them, and any noise, any mistake, could give them away.

As they approached the farmhouse, Katsaros gestured for them to slow down. He could hear something, a faint sound, like crunching footsteps on gravel. He stopped, raised a hand for silence. The sound grew louder. It wasn’t a single set of footsteps; it was a whole patrol.

They ducked into the tall grass by the farmhouse, then waited there as the sounds drew closer, growing louder with the pounding in their chests as they tried to still themselves. Then came the sounds of the boots-the soldiers- the German patrols. They came, moving in tight formation.

Katsaros took his breath. If they were seen now, it was all over. His head was raving, but he didn’t have time to think. They had to stay hidden. And when the patrol went by, just a few inches from them, the whole group stiffened up, their fingers digging deep into their guns. But they didn’t budge. They couldn’t.

The patrol passed without incident. Katsaros waited a moment, then slowly exhaled. They had made it. For now.

“We’re in the clear,” he whispered.

The team slowly stood and went inside the farmhouse, being extremely careful not to make a sound. The old building creaked under their weight, and dust filled the air as they moved through the rooms. There was a small attic, barely big enough to hide all of them, but it would have to do.

They went inside and set up a watch, with each of the men taking turns to stand at the window while the others rested. As the night wore on, they couldn’t shake off the feeling that the Germans were getting closer. Their only hope was to keep moving, to stay ahead of the enemy and continue hitting their supply lines.

The farmhouse was a temporary respite, but not for long before they would have to leave.

Katsaros lay in the darkness, his mind racing. He could hear the distant sound of German trucks, their engines humming louder with every step closer. They would come for them soon, and he needed a plan.

But one thing was sure: the Germans wouldn’t stop until they were caught. Survival came only with more fighting.