Death In Captivity

by Michael Gilbert

  He paused. ‘It does bring me to my next point though. Up to now I’ve agreed – and I’ve been very happy to agree – that all escaping activities should be run by your committee. I haven’t asked to be told about them. I felt that knowing nothing about them has strengthened my hand in dealing with the Italians. I’m afraid that’s got to stop.’

  ‘Stop?’ said Colonel Baird.

  ‘I mean,’ said Colonel Lavery, ‘that from now on I want to know about any attempted escape before it takes place.’

  ‘Know about it, or approve of it?’

  ‘Know about it and approve of it.’

  The line of Colonel Baird’s jaw had become a fraction more prominent. Commander Oxey was unsmiling but neutral. Colonel Shore seemed to be secretly amused.

  ‘It worked very well before,’ said Baird. ‘I’d like to understand why it’s got to be changed.’

  ‘It worked in normal times,’ said Colonel Lavery patiently, ‘but these times aren’t normal. We’re sitting on the edge of a land-mine which is going to go up at any moment. The whole situation is all of a piece. Anything one party does affects everyone else. If I’d known about last night’s attempt – however much chance of success I thought it had – I’d have stopped it.’

  ‘Could you tell us why you would have done that, sir?’ asked Commander Oxey formally.

  ‘Have you looked at the sentries this morning? Have you ever watched a cat the first time it tastes blood? Sooner or later – it may be weeks, it may only be days – we’re going to have to deal with these gentry. I’m going to have to deal with their Commanding Officer. I’m sure you won’t misunderstand me if I say that all our lives may depend on the sort of attitude we have towards them and they have towards us. Well, last night wasn’t helpful.’

  ‘I can’t see how us stopping trying to escape is going to make the Italians any more respectful,’ said Colonel Baird.

  ‘This morning,’ said Colonel Lavery, ignoring this, ‘I had a message that I was to go and see Captain Benucci at his office at midday. I was to go and see him. Formerly, when he has had anything to say he has come to see me. It’s a small thing, but it’s an example of what I mean.’

  ‘Do I take it,’ said Colonel Baird, ‘that you want to know all the details of escape activities – or do you just reserve the right to veto them?’

  ‘I want full co-operation,’ said Colonel Lavery.

  There was an awkward silence which was broken from an unexpected quarter. Colonel Shore said, ‘If I might be allowed to say so, I think you’re plumb right. This isn’t a situation where it’s going to help to have people pulling in two directions.’

  ‘Oh, quite,’ said Commander Oxey hastily.

  ‘I’m not disagreeing,’ said Colonel Baird. I’ll do what I’m told, of course. It’s only that – well, just because we got a poke in the eye last night, it doesn’t seem logical to suspend all escaping activity.’

  ‘Far from it,’ said Colonel Lavery. If he breathed a sigh of relief he was too experienced a tactician to do so openly. ‘If there’s one thing that stands out above everything else it is that that tunnel’s got to be finished. I believe that it doesn’t even matter now if they guess what’s going on – provided, of course, they just don’t know where the tunnel starts. Suppose they do catch people dumping sand? What does it prove that they didn’t know already?’

  ‘It might even be helpful,’ said Colonel Shore. ‘You know what you were saying about moral ascendancy. It’s a thing I’ve noticed about these Italians myself. If you shout at them and insult them, it just raises their morale. They’re like a troop of monkeys. They’re bucked to think you’re taking so much notice of them. But if you laugh at them they’re lost.’

  ‘All foreigners are like that,’ agreed Commander Oxey.

  3

  Tenente Mordaci had been in two minds about coming into the camp at all that morning.

  In the end, being in receipt of a direct order from his superior officer, he had belted on a large Biretta pistol under his cloak, and had started out cautiously on his morning round.

  The routine of the camp seemed to be proceeding normally. A dusty game of basket-ball was in progress on the sports ground. The Dry Fly Club was holding a casting competition behind Hut B. A row of builders of the body beautiful were busy adding another layer of tan to their already over-cooked torsos.

  None of these groups made any hostile demonstrations as Tenente Mordaci walked past them, clutching his Biretta moistly beneath his cloak. Nobody spoke to him at all.

  The whole camp seemed unnaturally quiet.

  Between Huts E and F he came upon Lieutenant Long. Lieutenant Long was raking thoughtfully over a rose bed. It was, in many ways, rather a curious rose bed. When it had first been dug, many months before, its surface had been level with, or even sunk below, the surrounding soil. Now, with successive loads of sand from the Hut C tunnel, it had grown upwards in an ever more and more voluptuous curve until it threatened with extinction the row of struggling rose bushes which were by now barely managing to keep their heads above the surrounding surge.

  ‘A lovely morning, Tenente,’ said Long, as Mordaci came up.

  ‘I am surprised you can say so,’ said Mordaci solemnly.

  ‘Why, what’s wrong with it?’

  ‘Can it be that you have not heard of the events of last night? Two killed, two wounded. Useless stupidity—’

  Tony suspended his raking and looked up at him. ‘Good gracious me,’ he said, ‘surely you don’t believe that stuff—’

  ‘Believe! I myself have seen.’

  ‘I thought everybody knew by now that it was a fake. Surely those dummies didn’t deceive you?’

  ‘Deceive me! What fantasy is this?’

  The truth of the matter is that the only people who got hurt were the two sentries who shot each other in the confusion.’

  ‘Is that so?’ said Mordaci. ‘Then perhaps you will explain how—’

  ‘The trouble with you Fascists,’ said Long, ‘is that you’ve been propaganding people for so long that you can no longer recognise the difference between truth and untruth – I’m sorry I can’t stop and gossip. I’ve got a date with a girl—’

  4

  At five minutes to twelve, Colonel Lavery, accompanied by his Adjutant, walked across to the main gate and asked to be taken to Captain Benucci.

  There were two sentries on the inner gate, and one of them pointed his short rifle in the direction of the S.B.O. whilst the other went to the telephone.

  Colonel Lavery was aware that this was only a gesture, but he felt happier when the second man returned and started opening the gate.

  ‘You only,’ said the sentry who had telephoned, ‘not the other officer.’

  Captain Armstrong hesitated for a moment.

  ‘That’s all right, Pat,’ said Colonel Lavery, ‘don’t let’s start an argument. I expect it’s only something about the rations.’

  The Adjutant saluted, and walked back to the camp. Colonel Lavery, followed by the second sentry, made his way to the carabinieri quarters, which lay beyond the Punishment Block. This was arranged, like the Punishment Block, with an L-shaped passage, only it contained more and smaller rooms: three on each side, and one at the end. Benucci’s office was at the far end, on the left, and Colonel Lavery had taken two steps towards it when he was stopped by a soft whistle. He looked round, and saw, at a slit in the nearest door, the anxious eyes of Roger Byfold.

  ‘Nice to see a friendly face, sir,’ said Roger.

  ‘Good heavens, Roger! How are they treating you?’

  ‘E vietato—’ began the sentry in an anxious squeak.

  ‘A bit short on exercise,’ said Byfold. ‘Otherwise all right.’

  ‘Anything I can do for you?’

  ‘E asolutamente vietato—’ said the sentry.

  ‘You go and boil yourself,’ said Byfold.

  The sentry, despite the fact that he was still holding his rifle, contrived the child-l
ike, outward-turning gesture with both hands which an Italian makes when a situation is beyond him. Then he said, ‘Eh – ma—’, and bolted down the passage towards Benucci’s office.

  ‘We’ve got a second before they turn the dogs loose,’ said Colonel Lavery. ‘Are you sure you’re all right? They haven’t been—’

  ‘Not a single rubber truncheon,’ said Byfold. His face was white but his grin was unimpaired.

  ‘Has there been any sort of court proceeding?’

  ‘If anything’s been done,’ said Byfold, ‘it’s been done behind my back. Nor have I yet been induced to sign the traditional confession. Ah – here comes Torquemada.’

  ‘I regret,’ said Benucci, ‘that talking to the prisoner is forbidden.’ His voice was polite but his eyes had a cold, enquiring look in them. ‘Will you come to my office, please?’

  In the office there was a silence which Colonel Lavery was determined not to be the first to break. In the end, Benucci said, ‘I expect you are wondering why I have sent for you?’

  ‘Since, in the past, you have always come into the camp to see me, I imagined it must be something out of the ordinary.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Benucci. ‘I think you will think so. I sent for you to tell you that Captain Byfold is to be shot.’

  The satisfaction was so apparent, the animal was so near the surface, that the spectacle turned Colonel Lavery’s stomach. Also it steadied him.

  Without taking his eyes off the Italian, and keeping his voice at a careful, conversational level, he said, ‘Oh. When?’

  ‘The execution will take place at dawn the day after tomorrow.’

  ‘On what authority?’

  ‘The sentence has been confirmed by the Headquarters of this District.’

  ‘No doubt,’ said Colonel Lavery, ‘but whose sentence?’

  ‘The sentence of the Military Tribunal convened by the Commandant of this camp.’

  ‘Is it customary in Italy for a prisoner to be tried on a capital charge in his absence?’

  ‘Depositions were read from all witnesses, including the prisoner himself. All possible evidence was considered by the tribunal.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Colonel Lavery. ‘Did you give evidence?’

  ‘My deposition was read also.’

  ‘And no doubt you stated in it that you knew perfectly well that Captain Byfold had nothing to do with the death of Coutoules?’

  There was a sudden gleam of white as Benucci showed his teeth. Then he got up from his chair, came to the front of his desk, within a few feet of Colonel Lavery, sat on the edge of it and crossed one neatly booted leg over the other.

  ‘I answered the questions that were put to me,’ he said.

  ‘I see.’

  ‘If you consider that an injustice is being done, you must comfort yourself with the consideration that, in war, injustices are common. Particularly in prison camps. Both in ours, and, no doubt, also in yours.’

  Colonel Lavery considered this for a moment and then said:

  ‘Were you thinking of any particular instance of injustice?’

  ‘No. Not of any particular instance. I was speaking generally.’

  ‘And is that all you had to tell me?’

  ‘That is all.’

  Colonel Lavery hesitated, He knew quite well that he only had one possible card in his hand, and it was a matter of life and death that it should be played properly. Not too soon, and not too late.

  He turned as though to leave the room, then, over his shoulder, he said, ‘I suppose you realise that you will be held responsible for this when the British Army takes over.’

  ‘When they do,’ agreed Benucci.

  ‘Personally responsible. I mean. You can’t hide behind a tribunal which hasn’t even been given a chance of hearing the prisoner.’

  Benucci stifled a yawn.

  ‘There is an English saying,’ he observed, ‘about crossing a bridge when you come to it. No doubt you are right. If this camp was taken over by the British Military Authorities and if I was still in the camp at the time, some form of reprisal could no doubt be exacted.’

  Colonel Lavery left the room without another word. In fact he had nothing left to say.

  When he got back to his room he found the Escape Committee waiting for him.

  ‘They’re out for blood, all right,’ he said.

  ‘You don’t think it’s possible that Benucci was trying to frighten you?’ asked Baird. ‘It would be well in character.’

  ‘No, I don’t. He’s thought it all out and he means to do it. At one time, something he said gave me the impression that he might be getting a sort of personal satisfaction out of it all. It occurred to me to wonder – still, that doesn’t matter now. The thing is, what do we do?’

  ‘I can’t understand it,’ said Commander Oxey. ‘He must know that his German pals are taking a beating in Sicily and he must guess that the British Army will be in Italy soon. He can’t hope to shut all our mouths.’

  ‘I put the point to him,’ said Colonel Lavery. ‘But it didn’t ring a bell at all.’

  ‘That’s not healthy,’ said Baird.

  ‘So I thought. To my mind it can only mean that the Fascists are going to make a fight for it. Italy’s a damned long prickly country, full of defensive positions, and we’re about four hundred miles up it as the crow flies. If the Italians stick by the Germans and keep their heads it’s going to take the Army months to reach us. By the time they get here, we’ll all be in Germany, Benucci included. Or that’s what he’s reckoning on, anyway.’

  ‘Might be a sea-borne landing,’ suggested Commander Oxey. He didn’t say it very hopefully. All four men were thinking the same thing.

  ‘There could be,’ said Colonel Lavery. ‘Hardly as far north as this, I should have thought.’

  There was another silence.

  ‘If we told them everything,’ said Baird, ‘where we found Coutoules and how and everything. Made a clean breast of it. Do you think it would be any use?’

  ‘I think they’d laugh in our faces,’ said Colonel Lavery. ‘They’d appropriate the tunnel, say thank you very much, and carry on with Byfold’s execution, as planned.’

  ‘Then what do we do?’ said Baird. ‘Sit and wait for it, and hope for a miracle?’

  ‘If I might make a suggestion,’ said Colonel Shore. ‘Stop me if I say anything you don’t agree with, but isn’t there one possible solution we’ve been overlooking. It’s a golden rule, when you’ve got two dangers, to see if you can’t set them to cancelling each other out. The Italians have taken Byfold, and they’re forcing our hands by threatening to shoot him – with just enough colour of legality to make them feel good about it. The only possible way we can save him, and it isn’t a very certain way at that, is by giving up our last trump card – the Hut C tunnel. All right. Now we know where Byfold is. Colonel Lavery saw him this morning. He’s in the carabinieri block, next to the cooler. That’s right, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Colonel Lavery.

  ‘And the cooler’s empty at the moment, waiting for an expected influx of prisoners. And the cooler is next door to the carabinieri block. Do you see?’

  ‘Not at the moment,’ said Colonel Lavery, ‘but please go on.’

  ‘Why don’t we stage a nice little riot this evening, and get half a dozen of the right types put in the cooler? There are officers in this camp who can pick a lock with their eyes shut. They break out some time tonight, quietly remove the sentry in the doorway of the cooler, move across to the carabinieri block, let out Byfold, and then – ’

  ‘Yes. Then what?’ said Baird.

  ‘And then,’ said Colonel Shore, ‘they simply come back into the camp. That part shouldn’t be difficult. There’s only one gate sentry at night – and he’s in his box on the outer gate. Provided the guards on the platform don’t spot what’s happening – and remember, they are concentrating on the camp, not on the Italian quarters – then the whole gang should be back in the huts before the alar
m is raised.’

  ‘They might,’ said Baird. ‘I agree. It’s so mad, and so unexpected, that it might work. But how are we any better off? We can’t keep Byfold if they want him. That would simply lead to a pitched battle that we should be bound to lose.’

  ‘Surely,’ said Colonel Shore. ‘That wasn’t my idea at all. I suggest that once Byfold is safely in the camp, we put him down the Hut C tunnel.’

  It was Colonel Lavery who eventually broke the respectful silence which greeted this suggestion.

  ‘Pure genius,’ he said. ‘No other word for it. It puts them in a cleft stick, of course. Once they’ve searched the camp and failed to find Byfold, they must guess that he’s in the tunnel, because that’s the only considerable hiding place they have so far failed to discover. If they do know about it, they’ll have to show their hand. If they don’t they’ve got to give up Byfold.’

  ‘What about the other six?’ said Baird. ‘They’ll know who they are and they’ll be certain to take it out of them – or do you suggest we put them down the tunnel too?’

  ‘I should hardly say that was necessary,’ said Shore. ‘I don’t think even Benucci could shoot them out of hand – they’d need some form of hearing if only to protect themselves – and that’s all going to take time—’

  ‘Provided they don’t kill the sentry, I don’t see that there could be any question of shooting them. The most they would get would be a term of imprisonment—’

  ‘All right,’ said Baird. ‘The first thing is, who’s going to do it? We haven’t got much time. Goyles and Long are obvious choices. If they’re willing, we’d better let them pick the rest of the team. I’ll have a word with Goyles now. What do you say, sir?’

  Colonel Lavery took his time over answering. Before he did so he looked at the calendar on his wall. July 19th.

  ‘I wish it was a week later,’ he said. ‘Yes, I agree. It’s almost the only thing to do. It may come off. It’s better than sitting back and waiting.’

  5