Chapter Sixty-Nine
“Ein neues Probeschoss, Herr Leutnant?1” asked the grizzled German sergeant, standing astride the loading dock of the enormous cannon that bore the nickname “Long Max”. A whole battalion had slaved for ten days to install its concrete bedding just outside Douaumont, one of the villages within the eight-mile battle-zone round Verdun. Twelve men had been needed just to load the 380 mm barrel for a trial shot. Its shells were larger than a man, and up to ten times as heavy. The lieutenant, an aristocratic young brat, was the battalion’s deputy leader. Its captain, stricken with dysentery, should have been replaced two days ago, but the heavy fighting had prevented that. Hankering for glory, Lieutenant Von Strocken had issued the order to try out the great cannon.
Von Stro
