It was as the chimes on the tower of the Müller-Volksbad struck three that the real assault over the river began, over the Cornelius Bridge to the southwest of the Ludwig Bridge. Halstead, his bulletproof vest from the future stifling him beneath his uniform, insisted on personally leading the charge across the bridge that was covered by an intense hail of gunfire from that bridge’s eastern side and by a heavy shell bombardment that involved all the pieces of the artillery regiment which had taken up a position in the vicinity of the Burgerbräukeller.
The Communist defenders on the bridge and in the Deutches Museum overlooking the bridge from an island in the middle of the river had been caught off guard, and few bullets met the two thousand Ordnertruppe, veterans as well as recruits from the night before, who stormed across the bridge and past the Communist barricade which had been rendered ineffective by a few well-placed Reichswehr seventy-seven millimeter shells.
Up the Cornelius Strasse Halstead and his followers charged with pent-up energy that had finally found release in the orgasm of combat. Along the way, the leader’s eyes searched with a mixture of hope and fear for the muzzles of guns pointed in his direction, for potential sources of bullets that could strike him squarely in his bulletproof chest and spark rumors of superhuman invincibility.
But there were no Communists to be found along Cornelius Strasse, only civilians cheering from the safety of windows and doors, bystanders cheering on their liberators and waving German Imperial flags that had reappeared from hiding. At Gärtner Platz, Halstead made a smart forty-five degree swivel to his right with his left boot as he ordered one of his lieutenants to break off with a platoon and machine gun crew to secure the latest sidestreet. Then Halstead and his tiring followers marched up Reichenbach Strasse and made a westerly hooking motion through the deserted Viktualien Markt and along the Rosental and Rosen Strasse in the direction of Marienplatz and City Hall, where they would achieve the symbolic capture of the city center and turn east to face the main Communist force.
It was on the southern edge of the Marienplatz, the square in the center of the city, that Halstead finally met the bullets he had been hoping for. They came from a machine gun mounted in a turret on top of an armored car, and the bullets raked across the first row of Ordnertruppe as they entered the square. Someone behind Halstead tackled him, forcing him facefirst onto the flagstones below before rolling off his back to lie beside him.
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