Darkest Hour sjt-2

by James Holland

  'I've got to determine what you've done, sir.'

  'Isn't it bloody obvious? Just get me out of here.'

  'Let me give you some morphine, sir. It'll relieve the pain.'

  'Yes,' gasped Lyell, leaning his head back. 'Please do.'

  As Smailes took a syringe and a phial from his medical bag, Tanner had a good look round. The meadow was, he guessed, about a dozen acres, lined with hedgerows of varying thickness. There were more meadows at either side and tracks, too, linking them. To the top was the wood they could see from the far bank. How deep it was, or what lay on the other side of the ridge, he had no idea.

  Having eased off Lyell's Irvin, Smailes pushed up his sleeve and injected the morphine into his arm.

  'Aah,' sighed Lyell.

  'All right, Smiler,' said Tanner to Smailes. 'We should try to lift him now and get him to safety. Here, Billy, help Smiler with Squadron Leader Lyell.'

  Ellis and Smailes each put an arm round his back and placed his on their shoulders.

  'One, two—'

  'What's that?' said Tanner, turning his ear to the woods above them.

  'Just help me up, will you?' groaned Lyell.

  'Sssh! Sorry, sir, but keep quiet a moment, will you?'

  He listened again, and then they all heard it. Engines - several of them.

  'Sounds like motorbikes to me,' said Sykes, in a hushed tone.

  'Exactly,' said Tanner. 'Right. One, two, three - up.' Lyell's silk parachute lay on the ground. 'Leave that,' he said, seeing Lyell glance at it. 'Quick, get him to that hedge at the side of the meadow.'

  They hurried over to it, then put Lyell back on the ground.

  'Right,' said Tanner. 'Billy and Smiler, can you two carry him on your own?'

  'I think so, sir,' said Smailes.

  'Good, then give us your ammo and get going, quick as you can make it. If Jerry comes and you don't think you can get across the bridge safely, take cover and wait, but make sure you use the same route we took to get here. Iggery, OK? Stan, Hep, you come with me.'

  'Where are we going, Sarge?' asked Hepworth, eyes wide.

  'Just a little recce. Here, take the Bren - and no more grumbling.'

  Crouching, he led them along the edge of the field. He could still hear the motorcycles, moving around on the hill above them. Instinct told him they were German - after all, the Belgian Army was on the left flank of the BEF, not here, and they'd seen few Belgian civilian motorcycles on the road. As they reached the edge of the wood, he still couldn't see them, but the sound was louder and coming from either side of them - several motorcycles seemed to be moving away to their left and more to their right. Indicating to Sykes and Hepworth to crouch behind an oak each, he paused to look back over the French and British lines. He could see Oisquercq clearly, the bridge intact. Some trucks trundled through the village, the mirror or windscreen of one glinting until it turned out of the direct line of the sun. And there were the farm and the lock. There was no sign of the other three. Good. They're out of the meadow.

  'I want to get a better look,' he hissed. 'We'll move forward through these trees, but make sure you keep your ears sharp and your eyes open.'

  They pushed on, half crouching, using the trees as cover. The wood floor was a carpet of bluebells. Shafts of sunlight poured through the canopy of oak, beech, birch and spruce. There were a few bushes here and there, bracken and rotten logs or fallen trunks, but otherwise it was easy to move, and, thankfully, soft underfoot.

  Tanner now heard more vehicles moving forward, then a voice. It was too distant to make out clearly, but he sensed there was a road or track ahead to their right. He pointed to the direction of the engines, conscious that he could still hear a motorcycle moving away to their left and now almost behind them.

  Suddenly he glimpsed something ahead, crouched lower and signalled to the other two to do the same.

  'What is it?' whispered Sykes.

  'I saw something - a large vehicle, I think,' hissed Tanner. 'There must be a road up there - or a track, at least. Let's move up a bit but make sure you keep your heads down. And no bloody noise.'

  The ground ahead rose and then they could see a road bisecting the wood. Along it, engines running, stood a column of German armoured cars and motorbikes.

  'Christ, Sarge!' whispered Hepworth. 'What the hell are they doing?'

  'I'd say they must be the reconnaissance. Advance guard.' There were four armoured cars, squat four-wheeled vehicles; two had small cannons and machine-guns fitted to the turrets, but on the other two tubing extended from the hull and stretched round the turret.

  'Any ideas what those two are about, Stan?' Tanner asked.

  'I reckon they must be radio cars, Sarge. Yes, that'll be it.'

  'Reporting back.' Tanner stroked his chin. He counted six motorcycles, all with sidecars and a machine-gun attached to them. Two more motorcycles appeared from away to their left, without sidecars. Tanner noticed their riders had rifles slung across their backs.

  'Look,' said Tanner. 'See that fallen trunk? Let's try and get to it.' It was another fifty yards or so, thick with ivy. It offered cover and, underneath it, the perfect place from which to observe the enemy.

  'Don't you think we've seen enough, Sarge?' said Hepworth, eyes still wide.

  Fanner winked. 'No, Hep. We can have some fun here, I reckon.'

  'Fun, Sarge?' Hepworth was clearly horror-stricken.

  'Think about it, Hep. Our lads are falling back and so are the Frogs. Our job is to hold up Jerry as long as possible to give the rest of the boys as much time as we can to get back to wherever we're going to make a stand. These jokers here are obviously Jerry's advance guard. If Stan's right, they'll be sending radio transmissions back to the main bulk of the German advance, reporting on what they've seen and pinpointing targets, but they can't do that if we put them out of action, can they?'

  'And how do we do that?' His face had drained of colour. 'There's only three of us.'

  'Yes, but we've got the element of surprise. Look at them - they're having some kind of pow-wow. The last thing they're going to expect is an attack. And we've got the Bren, plenty of rounds, three rifles and a load of grenades. I'm sure we can think of something to do with that lot.'

  'And a few other bits and bobs.' Sykes grinned.

  Tanner smirked. 'Like what, you sly dog?'

  'A couple of tins of safety fuse, two cartons of Nobel's finest, a tin of detonators, and something else I think you might appreciate, Sarge.' He delved into his respirator bag and pulled out a small tin about four inches long.

  'What are those?' asked Tanner.

  'Mark One time delay switches. You add a detonator to one end and put your detonator into a pack or more of Nobel's. There's a phial you snap that releases some kind of 'orrible corrosive and when it's burned through a thin tube of copper it releases a striker and a spring, and bang - off goes your gelignite.'

  'What's the delay?'

  'Depends on where you set the strip of copper, fen minutes, half an hour, an hour and a half, and so on. They're new, apparently. I've only got five of them, mind. That's all you get in a tin.'

  Tanner shook his head. 'Where on earth did you find this stuff?'

  Sykes winked. 'Pinched it from Division sappers back in Tournai. I like having a few explosives about me, these days. Never know when they might come in handy.' He put away the tin. 'Norway taught me that much, Sarge.'

  'Why didn't you tell me, Stan? We could have taken twice as much.'

  Sykes looked sheepish. 'I thought you were probably in enough trouble, Sarge. No one's watching me particular, you see.'

  'You're probably right.'

  'I still don't know what we can do, though,' said Hepworth.

  'Nor do I yet,' said Tanner. 'Let's get to that tree first. We'll think of something.'

  They inched forward, the trees and some thicker foliage, with the engine noise of an armoured car, providing them with cover. At the fallen tree, they lay down on their stoma
chs. The enemy were about sixty yards away, still deep in conversation. Tanner brought his binoculars to his eyes. Immediately he spotted the officer in charge - different shoulder tabs, jacket, belt and breeches - standing in front of the leading armoured car, one with a gun turret. He didn't think much of the uniform. It was too stiff, too formal - impractical. Another officer's head was poking out of the radio car, headphones over his cap. The rest were other ranks - privates and NCOs - between twenty and thirty in all. He looked back in the direction from which the Germans had evidently come. He couldn't see far, but there was no sign of any others.

  'We need some kind of distraction,' he whispered. 'Something to keep them busy while we get round the back and disable those armoured cars.'

  'How about setting off a couple of packets of gelignite?' suggested Sykes. 'I could push round a bit, set them for ten minutes, then scarper back here. Then Hep can open up with the Bren and we'll hop in from behind with some grenades.'

  Tanner nodded thoughtfully. 'Can't think of a better plan. All right. I'll try to pick off the officers when Hep opens up with the Bren.' He glanced through his binoculars again and saw that the senior officer was now peering towards the sky with his own. Others were also gazing upwards.

  'Hello,' he whispered. 'What's going on here?'

  Then he heard it. The faint, rhythmic thrum of aero-engines.

  'Bombers,' he murmured. The sound of the approaching aircraft grew until it became a roar. Then, glancing up through the canopy, they glimpsed two dozen Stukas and a moment later the first aircraft began its dive, siren wailing, followed by another and another, as each hurtled down towards its target. Amid the screaming sirens and whine of the engines came the whistle of falling bombs and the rattle of machine-guns. The bombs detonated, cracking the air and rippling the ground so that Tanner could feel the vibrations even from where they were, nearly a mile behind. Christ. I hope Smiler and Billy have got Lyell safe.

  Sykes nudged him. 'Couldn't have timed it better myself.'

  'Get going now,' Tanner told him. 'I'll see you over there, by that big oak.' He pointed to a large tree roughly in line with their present position but behind the enemy column. 'Be as quick as you can.'

  Sykes scampered off. Tanner unloaded his Bren magazines and laid them beside Hepworth. He put a hand on the private's shoulder. He liked the lad for all his bellyaching; they'd been through so much together in Norway and he hadn't let Tanner down yet. 'You'll be fine, Hep. When the explosions go off, wait a few seconds, then open fire. Just make sure you knock down as many as you can.'

  'All right, Sarge.' He swallowed hard and Tanner saw that his hands were shaking as he moved the spare magazines.

  Tanner patted Hepworth's back then set off, half crouching, half running, between the trees until he reached the large oak. There he stopped, put his binoculars in his haversack and took out his Aldis scope, carefully unwrapped it from its cloth, and fitted it to the pads on his rifle. He'd had it zeroed at four hundred yards, but the distance here was way less - maybe seventy. That meant adjusting the range drum and aiming a good deal lower than the main point of impact as indicated by the scope. He moved round the oak, found a cluster of brambles and positioned himself behind it but with enough of a view through the tangle of leaves and stems to pick out the two officers. Both were still watching the Stukas' attack. The bombs had been dropped, but Tanner heard the aircrafts' change of pitch and whine as they swooped and attacked with their machine-guns. He was certain they were targeting the French, rather than the British at Oisquercq and Tubize, but there was no doubt that D Company would be feeling the force of the attack. He hoped they were bearing up, and reminded himself that a soldier properly dug in had only a lucky direct hit to fear. And the enemy would want that bridge intact - they would have been careful where they dropped their loads.

  Having reassured himself, he glanced at his watch, then saw Sykes coming towards him. 'How long have we got?'

  'Two or three minutes.' He puffed out his cheeks. 'I hate the wait.'

  'Got the grenades ready?'

  Sykes patted his haversack - he'd undone the straps.

  'Good,' said Tanner. 'There's only one way to do this.'

  'Run?'

  'Yes. There's plenty of trees and it's not far. We should be fine. Let's leave the motorcycles at the back alone, though. I'm going to make straight for those radio cars. You take the rear turreted one.'

  'You don't think by sniping you'll make them realize we're behind them?'

  'No - with the explosions and with Hep opening fire, they won't be able to tell what the hell's going on.'

  The Stuka attack was lessening as aircraft flew away from the fray. The sound of machine-gun fire slackened. Tanner glanced at his watch again. 'Damn it, come on!' he muttered. Anxiety was etched across Sykes's face.

  The first time-bomb exploded. Tanner saw the enemy soldiers flinch and brought his aim to the officer, whose head was still just visible among the swathe of men around him. He adjusted the distance, breathed in, held it and squeezed. The shot cracked loud and sharp among the trees, the butt of the rifle pressing back into his shoulder. The officer dropped, spraying blood. At that instant, Hepworth opened fire with the Bren. Sykes had already gone, but Tanner moved his aim to the second officer, who had initially ducked into the turret but had now poked his head out again. It was the last movement he made: Tanner pressed the trigger of his Lee-Enfield a second time.

  Breathing out heavily, he took the rifle in his left hand and ran forward. Men were already scattered on the ground. Flitting between the trees, he sprinted forward. Ahead, Sykes was near the first armoured car. Movement - a soldier was hurrying back to the motorcycle and now grabbed the machine-gun. Tanner paused, pulled the rifle to his shoulder, drew back the bolt and fired as the German was swivelling the weapon towards Sykes.

  Tanner sped forward. Sykes had clambered onto the back of the first armoured car. A crewman poked his head from the turret and Sykes brought down his rifle butt, jerking the man's head backwards against the circular steel rim. Then, with his teeth, Sykes pulled the pin from the grenade, dropped it inside and jumped away.

  'Watch out!' yelled Tanner, as another soldier ran towards them, his pistol pointing from an outstretched arm. The grenade went off, knocking the German off- balance, and Tanner shot him at almost point-blank range, then ran on past, smashed another stunned soldier's head with a short, hard swing of his rifle butt, and leaped onto one of the radio cars as shells and bullets detonated inside the first vehicle. He dropped a grenade into the turret, then swung himself off the metal radio frame as the rear armoured car blew up.

  'Bloody hell!' he said, as the blast swept over the radio car and shards of jagged metal clattered against it. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet and ran forward as the second grenade detonated, shrapnel rattling. Ahead, he saw dazed men getting to their feet, so he took another grenade, pulled the pin, hurled it towards them and leaped onto the next radio car. A driver raised his head and a pistol but Tanner ducked and the bullets fizzed uselessly over his head. Cocking his rifle, he stood up and fired, hitting the man in the neck. He went down amid a fountain of blood. As Tanner jumped onto the back of the vehicle, another German appeared round the side, aimed his rifle, then fell backwards with a cry as a rake of bullets from Hepworth's Bren hit him. Tanner threw another grenade into the car, jumped off and realized the Bren had stopped firing.

  'Hep!' he shouted, as he crouched by the side of the fourth armoured vehicle. 'Hep! Why have you stopped firing?' With his rifle ready, pulled into his shoulder, he sprang out in front of the car only to meet Sykes with a German pistol in his hand. Ammunition inside the vehicle behind them was going off like fireworks, so they got down, waiting for the next blast.

  'There's no one left to shoot, Sarge,' said Sykes. 'Look.'

  Bodies were strewn across the road, blood seeping into the grit and dust. The smell, mixed with the pungent stench of explosives, petrol and burning rubber, was sickening, and Tanner
's stomach tightened. The motorcycles were ruined. Two were burning, while the others stood awkwardly, riddled with bullet holes. Seven stunned Germans staggered in front of them, their arms raised in surrender. Bullets were still detonating in the armoured car behind them, whistling and pinging as they ricocheted around.

  Tanner got to his feet. 'Right,' he said. 'We need to move. We can't be sure this lot were the only recce troops around here.'

  'What about the prisoners?' asked Sykes, as Hepworth, eyes wide and disbelieving, came towards them.

  Tanner tutted. 'We should probably take them with us.' The lead armoured car was still untouched, save for a few dents from Hepworth's bullets. The tyres were also undamaged. 'We could take this. Make them sit on the outside. One of us can drive, another watch them from the turret and the other ride one of their motorcycles. Check them for weapons, then get them to move this lot off the road. And give them some beadies. Poor bastards've just lost their mates.'