Cast No Shadow: A Thrilling WW2 Adventure (Dragan Kelly Book 1)

by Peter Alderson Sharp

  Charlie and Delta teams were on the slip and were removing their fins and preparing their weapons. Slowly, like ghosts, they glided up the slip and fanned out in arrowhead to start the approach to the crèche. Kelly glanced at the Thorstaadt house as he drifted past, no lights, no sound. They moved to the cover of the first of the three houses on the lane leading up to the crèche and took cover as Kelly observed.

  No sound from anywhere, no sign of any movement. However, a light shone from a window in the crèche. The occupants were at home.

  On Kelly’s signal Charlie team moved to the next building, and took up a defensive position. Kelly moved his Delta team, taking them past the first team and on to the next and final house. He moved into position at the side of the house, just below a window. As he did so, to his horror, a light came on in the window.

  Kelly held his breath. The window began to open. The head of a man, ghostly white in the darkness, appeared. On seeing Kelly, in black wet suit and blackened face, he jerked back in shock.

  Quickly Kelly rose to the same height as the startled gentleman and placing his face close to the other’s, placed his finger to his lips in the universal signal for silence. He then held out a hand to the startled man, who took it and shook it. As he did so, comprehension replaced apprehension on his face. Mimicking the silence signal, he retreated back into his bedroom and slowly and quietly closed the window. Kelly sank down again into the shadows as the light was extinguished, and breathed an inaudible sigh.

  Kelly motioned to Corporal Adams, the ‘bomb man’ from Charlie team, who stole forward, first at the crouch, then on his stomach, to the crèche building and placed his charge against the wall of the building. An invisible thread of wire snaked out after him, connected to the charge at one end and to Kelly’s control box at the other. As he returned, Corporal Allen, Delta team’s ‘bomb man’, moved to a position on the other side of the building. As Allen completed the placement and turned ready to start back to the main group, still on his stomach, the door opened, and a soldier stepped out. He was a young man, of slight build, smoking a cigarette. Allen instantly froze, barely even breathing. Kelly eased his Sten into a usable position, ready to fire. No one else would fire unless he did. He bided his time.

  The young soldier took several deep drags on his cigarette and walked slowly down the path to the road where he stood for a while. While his back was turned, Allen eased himself back around the side of the building so as to get completely out of sight when the soldier returned. After a moment, the young soldier walked back up the path humming a tune, at one stage treading on the D10 firing cable. He stood for a moment, his back to the door, facing in exactly the direction of Kelly and his team, but unable to see them in the dark. Finally, he took a long drag on his cigarette, flicked the butt into the darkness, turned on his heel and, opening the door, walked back into the building, closing it behind him.

  Allen waited for a period before making his way back to Kelly. That had been close. Kelly gave Allen the ‘thumbs up’ to acknowledge his skill and bravery. He checked the connections to his control box, switched it on to ‘ready’.

  They waited.

  There was a bright flash of light followed by a crash and a roar as the sound from Alpha team’s explosives tried to catch up with the light. Half a second later, Kelly pressed the button on his control box and the crèche seemed to disappear in flames, smoke and noise. Immediately Charlie and Delta teams spread out from the cover of the building and into a defensive line facing the crèche, their ears ringing from the deafening roar of the explosions.

  Cries and screams could be heard from the crèche above the crackling of the flames and the clatter of small arms ammunition exploding in the heat. The door of the building opened and men started staggering out, some engulfed in flames, screaming and flailing as they moved. A crackle of Sten gun fire from two of Kelly’s team and the men fell, dying.

  There was a crash and tinkling of glass. Despite the gloom, Kelly could vaguely see German soldiers jumping out through the side windows. They were moving into a defensive position and within seconds were returning fire. The clatter of the small arms fire was added to by the distant sound of firing, either from the telephone exchange or from the factory, possibly both.

  Kelly had no way of knowing how many had escaped the blast and hence what opposition they had. His men were sensibly conserving their ammunition, firing only at realistic targets, but their ammo wouldn’t last for long. They had, of necessity, travelled light.

  The rat-a-tat of an MG34 added to the din. Kelly frowned. He knew that if the machine gun ‘ranged’ them, they were in desperate trouble. Relieved of the need for silence, he barked out a series of orders. His team put down covering fire, while Charlie team withdrew, under fire, towards the slip. Once level with the second house they went defensive and laid down fire to enable Kelly’s Delta team to withdraw.

  As they moved back at the crouch, covered by Charlie team, Kelly heard a cry close by and saw a black figure slump to the ground.

  “Allen?” he called. There was no movement and no response. Kelly cursed. This was no time for heroics; he and Smith had to get to cover. As he moved into the relative shelter of the building, he realised that, by the direction of the fire coming at him, the Germans were also manoeuvring, laying down heavy fire from the machine gun, while the rest of the squad moved towards them. He barked orders for Charlie team to join them whilst he and Smith gave what cover they could.

  As Charlie team retreated to join Kelly, one of the shadowy figures was thrown forward from the force of a machine gun round. Before Kelly could react, one of the others stopped, knelt beside his comrade, hoisted him onto his shoulder and stood up.

  “Get down! GET DOWN!” Kelly screamed. The marine took a few stumbling steps forward before his body jerked and he slumped to the ground with his comrade still draped over his shoulder.

  Only three remaining, low on ammunition, and now with an escape plan that was thwarted. Kelly considered retreating to the slip and swimming for it. They would be invisible within twenty yards of the shore, but, he reconsidered, if he led the Germans to the slip now, they might see the other commandos coming in their rigid raiders and they would be sitting ducks. No! He had to try to hold them here to give Tom Foley’s boys a chance to get ashore. Talking of which, he thought, where the hell were Foley’s men?

  A burst of machine gun fire sent wood splinters flying in all directions as the rounds thudded into the logs of the cabin. Kelly quickly ducked his head back behind the wall, waiting for the next burst before popping his head out again. A German soldier was about fifteen yards from his position sprinting towards him. Kelly quickly aligned his Sten and sent a burst into the man. He saw the soldier convulse as the rounds crashed into his body, but his momentum carried him forward, landing face down only a few yards from Kelly.

  Crash! An orange sheet of flame leapt out of the ground in front of the advancing Germans.

  Crash! And another.

  The unmistakable whine of the base plug of a Mills grenade flashed close to Kelly’s face.

  “COMMANDO! ... COMMANDO!” A throaty roar from a dozen marines announced the arrival of the main group. Kelly saw Gareth Owen flash by, followed by a dozen khaki figures, firing on the run. Bren guns scattered spent cartridges in every direction. As the smoke cleared, the flashes from the guns provided enough illumination to show Owen’s boys in hot pursuit of the Germans, now fleeing in disarray.

  A second group passed Kelly. Led by Sergeant Arnold, they moved towards the crèche presumably to check it was no longer a risk. Kelly and his two remaining marines moved to the fallen bodies of their comrades. The two Charlie team marines were dead, riddled with machine gun rounds. Kelly turned with a heavy heart towards Corporal Allen’s fallen body. Smith was already bent over him. There was a strangled cry from Smith, “Sir! Over here! He’s not dead!”

  Kelly ran across and knelt down beside Allen. He was breathing and trying to speak; “Me back, sir
! Bastards hit me in the back.” His breathing was bad, but the fact that he wasn’t already dead meant that the round had missed his heart. Kelly ran over to the German he had killed, pulled him onto his back and searched his body. He found the dressing he was looking for strapped onto the soldiers webbing.

  Running back to Allen he dressed the wound as best he could and made the marine as comfortable as he was able. Heads were beginning to appear cautiously out of windows and around doors.

  “You!” shouted Kelly to the middle-aged lady peering from the cabin they had sheltered behind. “British!” He pointed to himself and then at Allen “British! You must help!” The head began to disappear behind the closing door, but Kelly was too quick. He thrust the door open and motioned to Smith and Adams, the remaining member of Charlie team, to bring Allen inside.

  They laid Corporal Allen on a couch in the living room, and Kelly kicked open the door of a bedroom. Lying in the bed was a man of similar age to the woman and clearly in a state of shock, shaking violently and whining in a low voice. Without a word Kelly pulled the duvet from the bed, took it into the living room and covered the unconscious Corporal.

  He pointed his Sten at the frightened woman and said, “If he dies, you die.” The woman was nodding vigorously, but he had no idea if she understood; he could only hope.

  “Come on!” he said to the other two. “Let’s join the party.” As he made his way towards the crèche, he looked over his shoulder at the Thorstaadt’s cabin. Not a light was showing. Kelly was curious, but even more than that, he was worried.

  Assault

  “Sergeant Arnold!” exclaimed Kelly, genuinely pleased to see the young sergeant emerging from the ruins of the still smouldering crèche.

  “Hello Sir! Nice job!” Arnold said, flicking his thumb at the crèche behind him and smiling broadly, the white teeth shining out from the blackened face. “This is clear now, apart from the dead, about five in total.” He grimaced. “Pretty messy.”

  “Where will Captain Owen be?” asked Kelly.

  “Once this lot settles down,” Arnold indicated the sporadic small arms fire coming from several areas in the village, “he intends to make a temporary HQ in the village hall, up by the quay.”

  “Right! I’ll find him.” Kelly started up the path to the centre of the village, Corporal Adams and Marine Smith following at a slight distance, their Stens cocked and ready to use. As they approached the quay, they were approached by a group of four German prisoners accompanied by four marines. As the marines drew closer, the lead marine levelled his rifle at Kelly and ordered him to halt. Kelly did so.

  The marine moved closer, then smiled. “Hello Sir. Sorry about that. Can’t be too careful!”

  “Its fine,” Kelly nodded, moving on. They reached the quay, and Kelly identified Tom Foley and Gareth Owen standing together talking. The firing had finally ceased, and the village seemed to be calm. Kelly spotted another group of German prisoners under guard near the quayside. He approached them and identified the only officer among them, a young and very frightened Unter Lieutenant.

  Speaking in German, Kelly asked, “Where is Herr Hauptman Meyer?”

  The young German shook his head, his hands were trembling slightly. He was clearly trying to hold it together whilst in the midst of what remained of his men. His voice had only the hint of strain as he answered, “I do not know. I have no idea. He is gone.”

  Kelly felt sorry for the young man and placed an arm on his shoulder and nodded. It produced a hesitant smile from the young officer in return. Kelly turned and made his way towards Tom and Gareth. They waved as they saw him, and Kelly returned the wave.

  When he reached them they shook hands.

  “Well done Dan. Really went well. Your boys did most of the work for us,” said Foley.

  “Don’t know about that,” said Kelly. “I was never more pleased to see Gareth just now.” Pointing to his two comrades, he said, “This is all that’s left of Charlie and Delta. What of the other two teams?”

  Tom Foley shifted uncomfortably. “Not good news I’m afraid, Dan. Alpha lost one at the exchange, but I’m afraid no one survived from Bravo at the factory.”

  Kelly lowered his head and cursed. They were all aware of how risky the mission was, but that didn’t make it any easier.

  “Your boys are going back tonight to the merchantman,” said Foley, “but I assume you still intend to take us to the plant?”

  “Of course,” Kelly nodded.

  Foley called to a marine standing nearby. The marine immediately joined them.

  “You have Lieutenant Kelly’s bergen?” asked Foley.

  “Yes sir, right here,” the marine responded, unhitching a bergen from his shoulders and placing it in front of Kelly. “I think you’ll find everything’s in there, Sir.”

  “Thanks,” said Kelly, as the marine moved back to his section.

  “How did it go Tom? Overall, I mean,” asked Kelly.

  “Walk in the park,” he answered. “I meant it when I said your boys did the bulk of the work. The Germans that broke from the crèche were either killed or captured by Gareth. The Germans that were in the factory broke out and overran your boys, but they held them long enough for us to catch them from behind. Sadly, too late for Bravo team.”

  “And the telephone exchange?” asked Kelly.

  “Totally destroyed. No calls could have been made to the plant from anywhere in Grense. We still have the element of surprise. Your boys at the telephone exchange cut off the few stragglers that were making for the hills, and that’s when they lost one of their team. We are confident that no one was able to evade us. As expected, we had casualties at the exchange, one Norwegian and one German guard, both killed.”

  “Thanks Tom,” said Kelly. “What about your casualties?”

  “Two dead, three walking wounded. Like I said, walk in the park,” answered Foley. “If you agree, I’ll use your team to ferry the wounded and the prisoners back to the transport.”

  “Please do,” said Kelly, “and don’t forget Corporal Allen.” Kelly went on to enlighten the others about the corporal’s position in a house near the slip. Gareth Owen broke in and explained that he would be remaining behind with one troop as rear party. He would ensure that Allen would get back to the transport for medical help.

  Feeling comforted, Kelly made his way to the temporary HQ building, and changed into his combat clothing, including the white camouflaged outer garments. He left the building and found Tom Foley, Ashley Dunn and Pete Jackson forming up their troops ready for the move to the plant. Gareth Owen was busily organising what remained of the force into all round defence. Kelly spotted Smith and Adams carrying a stretcher to the quay and gave them a wave. He ran over to the two men and, to his relief, found Corporal Allen on the stretcher, awake and smiling.

  “Hello, Sir,” Allan tried to smile. “I feel a bit of a fraud really, but it gives these two a bit of exercise.” Kelly grabbed his hand and shook it, causing the man to wince in pain.

  “Sorry!” Kelly released his hand and held his own hands up. “That was stupid of me. They looked after you alright?”

  “They certainly did! That woman fussed over me like a mother hen. What did you say to her?” Allen grunted. “She found some doctor, what was his name, some explorer fella?”

  “Amundsen?” Kelly asked in surprise.

  “That’s him, Sir. Funniest thing. He asked me if Dragan Kelly was with the assault team. When I told him I couldn’t answer that question, he grinned and said to tell you that the dressing was like a dog’s dinner! You know him then, Sir?”

  “Yes, I know him,” said Kelly quietly. “He’s a good Doctor, but I’m not sure what else he is. Any news on Alpha team?”

  Allen signalled with his hand, “Behind you, Sir.”

  Kelly turned to see Hughes and McCracken, the two remaining members of his team, escorting a group of four German prisoners towards the quay. He met them and exchanged greetings, complimenting them on a go
od job and commiserating over the loss of their comrades. The two were in good spirits and wished him luck on the next phase.

  With that—and feeling somewhat buoyed up—he joined the main force, now ready to start the move to the plant.

  Kelly rejoined Foley, and they briefly discussed tactics. The first eight miles would be covered in commandeered vehicles. They would then debus and cover the remaining two miles through the forest, emerging, with any luck, at the edge of the plant. It was agreed that Kelly plus two other marines would act as scouts in the approach phase. They would have a ‘hit squad’ following the scouts to deal with anyone making their way from the plant to the village.

  Gareth Owen was already preparing a roadblock and ambush to deal with any vehicles coming from the plant. As Foley pointed out, providing they pulled their fingers out, they could still hit the plant at first light.

  The vehicles trundled to a halt in a clearing on the edge of the forest and the marines vacated the bus, silently and quickly, forming up into the previously allocated squads. Each man had been fully briefed and had memorised his part in the operation. There was no need for talk.

  Kelly checked his prismatic compass and moved off through the forest, the birch trees hanging over them like gnarled wraiths. He took chances in the early part of the approach because speed was of the essence. They had made good time in the vehicles, but they still needed to maintain momentum if they were to strike at first light.

  As they approached the general vicinity of the plant Kelly became more cautious, stopping and listening for periods before proceeding, now moving much more slowly. They reached a break in the forest and Kelly observed the area. The plant was to his left about a quarter mile distant. Not bad for dead reckoning, he thought.