CHAPTER THIRTEEN
_Bombs For Namur_
With the English youth picking the way, the two boys crept forwardthrough the woods toward the spot from whence had come the sharp burstof machine gun fire. Before they had traveled a hundred yards a shout inGerman stopped them in their tracks.
"Just a Belgian dog!" the voice called out. "He was probably deserting,so it is well that we shot him!"
Dave's heart became icy cold in his chest yet at the same time bitterresentment toward the Nazis flamed up in his brain. Then he suddenlyrealized that Freddy was creeping forward on all fours, so he dropped tothe ground himself and followed. At the end of a few yards they came toa break in the trees that gave them a view of a large field in thedistance. Three light German tanks were parked in the field. A helmetedfigure, probably an officer, was standing up in the gun turret of each.Some sixty yards in front of the tanks two German soldiers were bendingover a motionless figure on the ground. It was now too dark for Dave toget a good view of the crumpled figure on the ground. But he knew hedidn't need a clear view. That Belgian Sergeant would never drive themto Namur, now.
"The dirty rotters, the swine!" he heard Freddy's hoarse whisper at hisside. "Three light tanks against one poor Belgian sergeant. He was adecent chap, too. Blast Hitler, I say!"
"The same for the whole bunch of them!" Dave breathed angrily. "Boy, Iwish I had a machine gun right now. I'd give them plenty!"
"Not against tanks, I fancy," Freddy said. "Well, that cooks it. We'vegot to go it alone. Look! They're starting off again. Now, if they justhead...!"
The English youth let his voice trail off, but he didn't have to finishthe sentence as far as Dave was concerned. He had the same thought. Ifthe tanks turned off to the right the scouting car would not bediscovered and they could continue their journey in it. But if the tanksturned to the left, toward the woods in which they crouched, it would begood-bye scouting car. The tanks would spot it for sure, and blow it tobits with their armor piercing guns if they didn't take it for their ownuse.
Dave's heart seemed to stop beating, and he held his breath, as thetank engines clattered up into life and the metal clad ground bugsstarted to move forward. Then suddenly he wanted to yell with relief.The farthest tank from them wheeled around on its treads to the right.The second tank in line followed suit, and then the third. Making aracket that echoed and reechoed back and forth across the war sweptcountryside, the squadron of tanks moved out of the field, rumbled downover the lip of a slope in the ground and were soon lost to view. Davelet the air out of his lungs and whistled softly.
"Boy, is that a break for us!" he grunted. "We can use that scoutingcar, now."
"You're jolly well right we can!" Freddy cried and leaped to his feet."It's a Renault, too, and I've driven Renaults lots."
"Then you're elected," Dave said. "So let's go!"
In less than a minute they were back in the scouting car and Freddy waskicking the engine into life. The instant it roared up he shifted intogear and sent the car rolling around to the left in the direction thedead Belgian Sergeant had indicated.
"I hope he knew what he was talking about!" Freddy yelled above thesound of the clashing of gears. "After that crazy ride I'm not sure atall where we are. But, I'll recognize that Namur road when we come toit. One of the few decent roads in Belgium. Well, we're off!"
The English youth punctuated the last by ramming the car into high andstepping on the gas. Dave's head snapped back and he grabbed wildly fora hold and found one.
"Gosh, you and that Sergeant!" he gasped. "But, it's okay, now. Let herrip, Freddy. Say! It's plenty different riding in the front seat of oneof these things, isn't it?"
It was different, too. It was much easier on the bones and tender spotsof the human body. Though the car was racing across a rough unevensurface, Dave didn't get half the bouncing around sitting up front. Butsuddenly when a group of trees came rushing at them and Freddy yankeddown on the wheel and swerved past with but a couple of feet to spare,Dave felt his hair stand up straight on his head.
"It's fun driving one of these things!" he heard Freddy shout. "ARenault's a good bus. My father has one."
"Sure, but I'm the passenger, don't forget!" Dave shouted back. "Howabout some lights? It's getting pretty dark."
"I guess we'd better," Freddy replied and flicked up a switch on thedashboard.
Two pale beams of light swept out in front of the car. They helped some,but they were considerably dimmed so as not to be easily spotted fromthe air. And they most certainly didn't put Dave much at ease. Darkobjects continued to whip into view and then go slipping by as Freddyskillfully wrenched the wheel this way or that. And then suddenly theybounced out of a field onto a dirt road. They had actually turned on tothe road and were tearing along it toward the west before Dave realizedthey were on it.
"Holy smokes, you're good, and no fooling!" he cried. "You sure know howto drive. Well, the Sergeant was right about this road anyway. Wonderhow far it is to the main road? Hey, what's the idea of stopping?"
Freddy had suddenly slammed on the brakes, swung to the side of theroad, and switched off the lights.
"Planes," he said. "Hear them? They might see our lights. Thought so.They're German, and low, too!"
"And coming right toward us!" Dave said as he twisted around in theseat. "Gee, you've got ears, too!"
Throbbing, pulsating thunder was rolling toward them out of the sky. Theplanes were not more than a couple of thousand feet up in the sky, andfrom the sound there were at least a couple of squadrons of them. Thetwo boys squinted up at the now dark sky, and then suddenly they sawthe armada of wings sweeping forward against the stars. They showed nolights, but it was easy to pick them out by the bluish glow of theengine exhaust plumes trailing backward.
"Gee, there's a hundred of them, at least!" Dave breathed. "They looklike Heinkels to me. Wonder where they're headed? Gosh, look at them,Freddy. Aren't they something?"
Freddy didn't reply. He sat peering up at the death armada as it wingedby, and Dave suddenly saw the frown on his friend's face.
"What are you frowning about?" he asked.
"I'm wondering," Freddy replied. "Unless I'm mistaken those chaps areheading for the same place we are. Namur. Yes, I'm almost sure of it!"
"So what?" Dave murmured.
"So I fancy there'll be very little of it left," Freddy said. "I'll betyou five pounds they know Belgian G.H.Q. is at Namur, and they're goingover there to knock it out. Well, all we can do is keep on going, Iguess."
The roar of the bombers was fading away to the south. Freddy started thecar again and switched on the lights. At the end of five minutes or sothey suddenly came upon a well paved broad highway.
"That poor Belgian Sergeant was right, bless him!" Freddy shoutedhappily and turned south on the road.
"Yes, but look!" Dave yelled and pointed ahead. "Look at that red glowway down there. Gee, it looks like the whole horizon is on fire. And,hey! Hear that? Hear those sounds. I bet that's those planes droppingbombs."
"And I bet that's Namur!" Freddy cried and speeded up the car. "Blastit, we're too late I'm afraid, Dave. Belgian H.Q. has probably clearedout long ago. We'll never find them there, if that's Namur!"
For the next few minutes neither of the boys spoke. They both sat tensein the seat staring at the ever increasing red glow that mounted higherand higher up into the horizon sky. A red glow that was mixed withstreaks of yellow, and flashes of vivid orange. And all the time the_br-r-ump! br-r-ump! br-r-ump_ of detonating high explosive bombs cameto them above the roar of the scouting car's engine. In a weird sort ofway it reminded Dave of a movie he had once seen. He couldn't rememberthe title but it was a movie about the world coming to an end. Thescenic effects had been like what he was witnessing now. Only theyhadn't been half so vivid nor so heart chilling as this. That had been amovie. This was real war. Way off there in the distance a city wasprobably dying. The bombs of war-making maniacs were smashing a livingcity into powdery ruins.
It was like a horrible nightmare. And it was,because it was true!
Freddy suddenly slowing down the car made Dave tear his eyes from theterrifying spectacle in the distance. He looked at his friend in suddenalarm.
"What's the matter, Freddy?" he asked.
The English youth pointed down the highway.
"Lights coming our way," he said. "We'd better pull over and see what'swhat. I was going to stop, anyway. There's something strange about this,Dave."
"Yes, and I know what you mean, too!" Dave said as he suddenly realized."The highway's been empty ever since we came onto it. We haven't passeda thing, or met anything."
"Right you are," Freddy nodded. "I've been wondering about that. But,we're meeting something, now. I say, that's not a car. The lights aren'ttogether. They must be motorcycles."
"They are!" Dave said. "Hear their motors? Boy, are they steppingalong."
"Phew!" Freddy suddenly cried out. "Supposing they're German? We'dbetter hop out and...."
"Too late, now!" Dave cried as the lights swerved toward their side ofthe road. "They've seen our lights. And, here they are, too!"
The last word had no more than left Dave's lips than two armymotorcycles roared up beside the car and brakes screamed to a halt. Davesaw two shadowy figures vault from the saddles and then the white beamof a flashlight flung straight into his face blinded him. The bloodrunning out of his face felt like cold water. He tried to shout thatthey were not soldiers but the words would not come. Then he almostsobbed aloud as a sharp voice spoke in French.
"Who are you? What is this? _Nom de Dieu!_ Two boys in a scouting car.Well, have you lost your tongues? What is all this, I ask?"
"We are trying to reach General Boulard's headquarters," Freddy saidbefore Dave could open his mouth. "We have important information. Willyou please take that light out of my eyes? We are not armed, as you cansee."
The bright light was lowered but it was several seconds before the boyscould adjust their eyes to the sudden change from brilliant light toalmost pitch darkness. Then they saw two Belgian corporals with dispatchrider brassards fastened about the left sleeve of their tunics. Each hadhis army pistol drawn and held ready for use.
"General Boulard?" one of them grunted. "Why do you wish to see him,eh? And what are you doing in this scouting car? So you stole it, yes?And I suppose you were planning to take it to your family and fill itwith your family's furniture? Well...."
"Nuts!" Dave suddenly yelled at them. "We're not Belgians. He's English,and I'm American. We've escaped from Germany with valuable information.A Belgian lieutenant gave us this car, and with a sergeant to drive it.He's back there dead. We almost bumped into three German tanks, and...."
"German tanks?" one of the dispatch riders broke in excitedly. "Where?"
"Back over there a ways," Dave said and pointed in the general directionfrom whence they had come. "Is General Boulard's headquarters still inNamur?"
The dispatch riders didn't answer at once. They looked at each other,shrugged, and looked quite alarmed.
"If these infants saw Boche tanks," one of them murmured, "then it mustbe a flanking movement to cut us off from Brussels. We must continue onat once!"
"At once!" his partner agreed and turned to his motorcycle.
"I say there, wait!" Freddy shouted angrily. "Is General Boulard atNamur?"
"There is nothing at Namur, except death and the cursed Boches!" one ofthe dispatch riders shouted. "We go to the General's new headquarters,now. Follow us and we will show you the way. But, hurry! If you did seetanks where you say, then we are practically surrounded by the swine.There is not a moment to lose, unless you care to be shot or at besttaken prisoner by the butchers!"
As though to give emphasis to their words the dispatch riders vaultedonto their saddles and opened up their motorcycle engines in a roar ofsound that seemed to bounce clear up to the stars and back again. Theywere off like a shot and over a hundred yards ahead before Freddy couldturn the small scouting car around. But once he had it turned around theyoung English youth didn't waste any time. He fairly flew after the twomotorcycles while Dave clung fast to the side of the car and silentlymarveled some more at Freddy's masterful driving.
The Belgians roared a mile up the road, then swerved off to the leftonto a road that led toward the northwest.
"They're heading for Brussels, I'm pretty sure!" Freddy shouted as thewind howled past the car. "That Sergeant was right when he said it looksbad. It not only looks, but _is_!"
"The Germans sure must be pretty deep into the country," Dave agreed."They.... Hey, Freddy! Gosh ... look! The whole road is exploding!_Freddy_...!"
The road ahead had suddenly burst open to spout a sea of blinding lightand crashing sound. The two dispatch riders seemed to melt into it anddisappear. Invisible hands grabbed hold of the small scouting car andtossed it straight up into the air. From a million miles away Dave heardFreddy screaming his name. Then he had the feeling of spinning end overend off through space that was filled with white hot fire and billowingthick black smoke. A hundred million wild, crazy thoughts whirled aroundin his brain, and then everything turned black, and became as silent asthe grave.
Dave Dawson at Dunkirk Page 13