Lynch didn’t have any clear targets at the moment, and took a look behind him at the beach. The Russians were finally aboard the boats, and the wounded were next. Captain Eldred was overseeing the embarkation and his batman, Hutchins, helped Hall get the wounded through the surf, as were those able-bodied men who’d been detailed to leave on the first round of boats. Lynch was just about to turn back to the forest when he saw Eldred stagger in the water, and for a second Lynch thought the man had simply slipped in a pocket of loose sand underfoot, but then Eldred fell to his knees, and his hand clutched at his chest.
“Stambridge!” Lynch shouted, pointing back towards the shore. “Captain’s been hit!”
The lieutenant turned and saw Eldred struggling to stay above the water, Hutchins splashing out into the surf to help him. This time, Lynch heard the single rifle shot as it came from the north, away from where the Germans were pressuring them, and he saw Hutchins’ head snap to the side, the dark spray of blood and brains splashing across the water, The captain’s batman fell backward into the surf, where he floated there, mostly submerged.
Hall, the troop’s medic, clearly knew there was nothing he could do for Hutchins, and Lynch saw him reach Eldred, then push him up out of the water and aboard one of the rafts. Several of the remaining Commandos on the beach, having given up all their ammunition for those remaining to hold the defensive position, drew sidearms and fired in the direction of the sniper. Lynch saw one of them punched off his feet by a bullet through the chest, and this time, he caught the flicker of muzzle flash, coming from a spot maybe a hundred yards down the beach, in amongst the scrub brush.
Stambridge had seen it too. He raised his rifle and rapid-fired five rounds in the direction of the sniper, only to be answered by a tongue of muzzle flare and the throaty brapapapapap of a machine pistol. Bullets snapped through the air all around them, and as Stambridge went prone, Higgins moved his Bren to fire on this new threat, but there was increased fire coming from the east and Lynch shouted at Higgins to shift his fire back towards the approaching Germans.
“Harry!” Lynch shouted at Nelson. “Hold the line!”
“Bugger off, you tosser!” Nelson snarled back, before peering again through his MG’s sights and cutting loose with a scything burst.
Lynch shifted back on his knees to Stambridge’s position. “Bastard must have spent all night working around to our flank, so he did.”
“There’s two of them,” Stambridge replied. “Shooter and a spotter with a machine pistol. We need to clear the damn beach!”
Stambridge cupped his hands in front of his face. “Clear the beach!” he shouted at those men sticking around to ineffectually fire back at the sniper’s location. Another man jerked with the impact of a bullet, falling against one of his squadmates. The wounded man was dragged out into the water, and the inflatable boats began to motor back off the shore, the sound of their engines audible over the din of gunfire.
But in a moment, Lynch felt a knot form in his gut, because the engine noises were overlaid with another sound, deeper and coming from the south. He spun and looked across the water, his eyes searching, only to spot - no more than a mile away - a thick V of foam falling away from a dark shape moving through the water towards them.
“Jesus wept!” Lynch shouted. “Lieutenant!”
It was a German patrol boat, and it was heading right for them.
Stambridge looked out over the water, uncomprehending for a moment, and then Lynch saw the lieutenant snap back to reason again, turning to the inflatables while pointing towards the oncoming patrol boat.
“Faster you bastards!” Stambridge screamed out over the surf at the escaping Commandos. “Move your arses!”
Lynch watched the patrol boat as it closed the distance. He wasn’t able to tell if it saw the boats out in the water, or if it was just arriving to support the Germans in the treeline.
“We need to distract it,” he said to Stambridge. “Draw it over here, away from the boats. If it gets close to them, it’ll shred them to pieces.”
“If our lads can get to the motor gun boats, they might be able to drive the Jerries away,” Stambridge said out loud. “They’ve got heavy weapons mounted.”
“You’ve read the reports on the bloody E-Boats!” Lynch replied. “Bloody things are armed with automatic cannons and torpedo launchers. Our motor boats doesn’t stand much of a chance. Even if they survive, if they’re hulled below the waterline they’re buggered, and it will take minutes for everyone to get out of those inflatables and embarked, leaving them as sitting ducks.”
Stambridge pulled his field glasses from inside his battledress and trained them on the approaching enemy vessel, after a few seconds, he put the glasses away and shook his head.
“That’s not an E-Boat, it’s an armed trawler,” he replied. “Much slower, no armor, lesser armaments. What we need is tracer fire. Pull an MG team off the line. I’ll work to keep that sniper’s head down. If you can hit that trawler, get their attention for long enough, the motor boats will have the time they need to board everyone, and they have enough horsepower to get away.”
Lynch wasn’t sure exactly what he heard, but then it dawned on him.
“Get away?” he asked, and then he nodded. “Of course. Can’t take the risk, can we?”
Stambridge dug around in the pocket of his battledress, and produced a flare pistol.
“Red star shell. Skippers of the motor boats know that if they see this, do not approach.”
Behind them, gunfire crackled as the handful of remaining Commandos carefully spent their remaining ammunition against the advancing German infantry. Somewhere to the north, a sniper and his spotter were lurking. And now, to the south, an enemy vessel bristling with weapons approached the shore.
Lynch let out a long sigh.
“Sod it all. Go on then.”
Stambridge pointed the pistol up into the air, and pulled the trigger.
Author’s Note
In writing a Commando story set in the spring of 1942, I really had only two choices - write a story about the Saint Nazaire raid, or...write a story about the Saint Nazaire raid. It is considered by many to be the greatest special forces operation undertaken by the British during the Second World War, and while I do not feel I have the weight of authority to push that declaration forward with my own arguments, the assault on the Saint Nazaire dry docks was, without a doubt, incredibly audacious, dangerous, and truly unforgettable. Although the naval and Commando forces that undertook the raid suffered great losses, the action was ultimately successful, and the men who carried out Operation Chariot were, in the truest sense of the word, heroes.
It was Chariot’s fame that ultimately led to my decision to keep its story firmly in the background of this novel. I had already written a detailed, if somewhat fictionalized, account of a historical Commando raid in the previous installment of this series, Operation Archery. However, the attack on Saint Nazaire was so much bigger, and so much more epic, I felt that inserting my heroes into yet another well-documented historical event would begin to set a bad precedent for the series. These novels were never intended to put historical events in the forefront, with my characters always stealing the glory from the real fighting men who carried out those deeds. men like Algy Forrester or Mad Jack Churchill. I wanted to be inspired by their stories, not replace them.
Because of this, I decided that the Saint Nazaire raid would only serve as the background for a completely fictitious story. There was no assault on any SS Lustschloss, although the Chateau de Lorieux is an actual place, just south of Crossac, France. It is, however, nothing but a ruin. If you dig around enough on Google Maps, you can even see a glimpse of a decrepit tower poking out of a stand of trees. Beyond that, everything in this book is pure fantasy, from all the SS characters, to the terrible deeds they carried out for their amusement. Kurzmann, Brune, and Stahl are truly diabolical characters, and I must admit, there were times when writing from their point of view was so dis
tasteful, I had to take a break and walk away for a while before returning to the story.
But here we are, the book finally completed and ready for publication. I cannot end this Author’s Note without a huge THANK YOU to everyone who emailed me or contacted me through social media, expressing interest as to when the next Commando novel was going to be released. Two and a half years have passed since Operation Archery was published, and while I had released the first Revenants novel, Assault on Abbeville, in the interim, I was dedicated to getting this story completed. Now, it will be up to you, the readers, to decide whether it was worth the wait.
Speaking of waiting, I hope you don’t mind a cliff-hanger!
If You Like This, Take A look At: The Termination Protocol (Scott Stiletto Book 1)
By Brain Drake
The Termination Protocol is the first book in the hard-edged, action thriller series — Scott Stiletto.
The United States is under siege, and the enemy has help from the White House!
Scott Stiletto is one of the CIA's toughest assets, a veteran of numerous missions, an operative with compassion and ruthlessness in equal parts.
His enemy is the New World Revolutionary Front, a terrorist organization seeking to overthrow the government of the United States and install their own puppet—a willing puppet, who is already very close to the president he wishes to replace.
With freedom and justice hanging in the balance, Scott Stiletto gives no quarter. He will give the enemy a one-way ticket to hell!
"...99% pure action fun, no additives. I had to stop reading the book several times just to catch my breath..." — Ian Kharitonov
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Jack Badelaire
About the Author
Jack Badelaire first began writing online in 2005, moderating a message board dedicated to Men’s Adventure paperbacks of the ‘60s through the ‘80s. He created The Post Modern Pulp blog in 2007 and the fantasy, science-fiction, and wargaming blog Tankards & Broadswords in 2008. In 2011, Badelaire published his first fictional work, the horror short story “Rivalry”, through Amazon’s Kindle Direct Publishing. In 2012, he published his first novel, KILLER INSTINCTS, followed shortly thereafter by OPERATION ARROWHEAD, the first in his successful WW2 British Commando series. Badelaire has since written seven other novels, three novellas, and multiple short stories, mostly in the field of historical adventure fiction.
Jack Badelaire has a bachelor’s degree in Film and Television Production with a minor in Classical Studies, and a master’s degree in Computer Information Systems and IT Project Management. He currently works full-time as an IT support services manager at a large university in Boston. For the last several years, Badelaire has taught part-time through a local adult and community education program. There, he focuses on teaching blogging and self-publishing, with the goal of helping new authors navigate through the process of digital and print-on-demand book production and distribution.
Jack Badelaire has a passion for history, particularly the ancient and medieval periods, as well as the history of warfare and the evolution of military weapons and technologies. He’s been a role-playing games enthusiast since 1993, and also enjoys tabletop miniature wargaming. An avid reader all his life, Badelaire collects vintage paperback novels, and his favorite authors include Robert E. Howard, Edward Abbey, Bernard Cornwell, Dan Abnett, Craig Thomas, Brian Garfield, and Alistair MacLean.
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