by Griff Hosker
I am not certain if Lumpy had eaten mussels before and so I nodded to him and showed him how to eat them. His face lit up when he tasted them. He looked around the table for condiments. I smiled. He was looking for vinegar. To a northern working class lad vinegar and chips were synonymous. These might be called frites but we knew them as chips. When he had finished he looked at the cooking liquor. It was redolent with parsley, white wine, garlic and shallots. I took a piece of bread and dipped it in the juices. He nodded and tucked in. We washed it down with the beer and felt replete. I had noticed more senior officers arriving for a late lunch and I put a handful of coins in the ashtray and gestured for Hutton to follow me.
I headed not for the town but the breakwater to our right. I had observed people fishing from there. At the end of the line of shops and cafes was a hut selling accoutrements for fishing. I saw two crab lines. I pointed to them and to a pot of bait. The man gave me the price in French and I handed over another note. I was glad that I had taken the German money as it had come in handy.
I led Hutton to the end of the breakwater where there were the fewest people. I took off my haversack as did Lumpy. It was only when he laid down his Lee Enfield that I realised how lucky we had been. I should have taken the German rifles. We would ditch the incriminating evidence before we left. We loaded the lines and began to fish for crabs.
There was no one within forty feet of us and the water was crashing against the rocks we would be able to talk, albeit quietly. “Well done, Sergeant, you restrained yourself well back there.”
He grinned, “It was hard. Mrs Hutton raised a noisy little bugger in me!” He glanced around. “So far so good sir, and the beer went down well. What was that we were eating?”
“Mussels and chips.”
”Well it isn’t cod and chips but it filled a nice hole.”
I jammed my crab line between two rocks. I had been hot in the café with my greatcoat but the breeze from the sea meant I could wear it here without attracting attention.
“What now, sir?”
I pointed across the harbour. “We need to identify a boat we can steal and then sail back to Blighty.”
He smiled, “Oh you can sail as well, sir?”
I shook my head, “I have never sailed in my life.”
His face fell. “Then…”
“The way I figure it Hutton sailing a boat must be like flying an aeroplane. You want the wind from your quarter and you may have to steer a zig zag course to get where you want.”
“How about a boat with a motor? We could work one of those.”
“True but we are leaving at night and a boat with a motor would make a noise.” I felt a tug on the line and I began to wind it up. I had caught my first crab. There was a little pool of rainwater next to me and I dropped the creature in it. It found a rock it could hide beneath and disappeared from view. I took the opportunity to stand and load the crab line with bait. Hutton stood too.
I gestured with my head, “See down there,” below us was a ladder and a small wooden jetty. About ten yards away, there were four evenly spaced buoys. He nodded, “I am guessing that there will be boats which tie up there. They must be out at the moment. We wait until dark and steal one.”
Hutton appeared to have the utmost faith in me and he grinned, “Sounds easy sir.”
“It is anything but. There will be machine guns and guards at the harbour entrance. They will have patrol boats sailing across the middle and we have to learn how to sail without attracting attention.” Even as I told him I contemplated abandoning the ridiculous idea but his words when we had first escaped, ‘Nil Desperandum’ came to mind. Where there was life there was hope.
The afternoon dragged on. We relieved ourselves as the other fishermen did by using the sea. We caught four more crabs. Had we wanted we could have eaten like kings. A few of the Germans waved and shouted what sounded like goodbye as they left. We just repeated their words and it did not arouse suspicion. I worried that the four buoys were not going to be used as the sun began to set in the west. Then I saw the sails of two small fishing boats appear at the end of the harbour. One had a red sail and the other one which had been white a lifetime ago. They tied up at two of the buoys. I watched them approach and saw how the two crew on each boat handled the sails. It seemed they must have shared the fishing for they only had one small dinghy between them. They ferried their catch to the jetty and, after stowing the sail and fitting a tarpaulin to keep out the rain they left. They barely gave us a glance.
For the first time in many days I felt hope surge within me. I could see our transport home. Now we had to wait until dark.
The rest of the fishermen had gone and we were the only ones left. It was now a difficult time. We stood out like a sore thumb and I prayed for darkness. I kept watching the two fishing boats bobbing up and down in the water. Our escape was so close. Hutton pointed across the water. “Sir, a patrol boat.”
It was small motorised boat about twenty feet long with a machine mounted close to the bows. That was a problem we would have to negotiate.
“Shall I get rid of the crabs now sir?”
“No, best leave them in case another fisherman comes to do some night fishing. It will add credibility to our story.”
Darkness fell and I almost jumped for joy. We were, to all intents and purposes, invisible. We had been highlighted by the setting sun but now we were hidden by shadows.
“You can get rid of the crabs now, Hutton.”
He had no sooner bent down to put his hand in the water than I heard footsteps and two Germans with a lamp appeared before us. One shouted something and held his hand out. They were military police and were obviously asking for papers. I caught Hutton’s eye and gestured towards them. They came closer. I noticed that they had side arms but they were holstered. One held the lamp while the other had his right hand held out for our papers. I put my right hand inside my greatcoat as though looking for them. Hutton came to my right and the German barked at us again.
When they were just two paces from us Hutton threw three of the crabs at their faces. They just reacted, throwing their arms up. The lamp crashed to the floor and was doused. I whipped out the bayonet and slashed it across the throat of the barking German. Lumpy leapt on the other. He picked up a rock and pounded the man’s head until it was unrecognisable as human.
“Well sir, that’s torn it.”
I quickly shinned down the ladder and threw off my greatcoat and tunic. I untied the dinghy and rowed to the two fishing boats. I tied the painter of one to the stern of the other and then towed them back to the jetty. It took me time. I clambered out and handed the ropes to Lumpy. “Keep hold of these. We will stick these bodies in the bottom of the boat with the white sail.”
I clambered to the top of the ladder and I picked up the first soldier. It was not easy negotiating the ladder to the jetty but I managed it. I dropped it in the bottom of the boat with the dirty white sail and then repeated it with the second body. I pointed to the painter at the front of the red sailed boat. “Tie this rope to the stern of the other boat and wait for me.”
I clambered up the ladder. It was not fair to ask Hutton to do this with his dodgy ankle. I grabbed the rucksacks, the Lee Enfield and the oil lamp and climbed back down. I put the bags in the front of the red sailed boat. I threw my tunic and greatcoat into the stern of the red sailed boat.
“Sergeant, sit in the middle and be ready to unfurl the sail and raise it.”
He looked terrified, “How do I do that?”
“There is a rope there, untie it and then pull on this rope. It should come up. Just watch what I do on this other boat.” I felt guilty. I had watched the fishermen bring the boats in; I just did the reverse of their actions.
I dragged one of the dead Germans to the stern and draped him around the tiller. I hoisted the sail. Reassuringly the boat began to move. I boarded our boat and I sat at the stern. The sail was hoisted but looked slack. The wings on our FE 2 were as taut as a d
rum. “Lumpy, pull the rope until it is tight.”
As soon as he did so we began to move. The tide was on the way out. I pushed the tiller over so that we were heading for the middle of the harbour. We were now in a race against time. We had had no opportunity to observe the patrol boat and its route. We would have to take a chance and just try to avoid it.
“Lumpy, keep the Lee Enfield handy.”
“Right, sir. We only have five rounds left.”
“Then use them well.”
I found I was shivering. I put my tunic and greatcoat back on and suddenly felt much warmer. We reached the middle of the river. The weight of the second boat was slowing us down but I was loath to lose it. I needed the confusion it could bring if we were discovered. The patrol boat was powered and could be on us in an instant. In the distance I heard its engine. It seemed to be on the west bank of the harbour. There was little point in worrying. If it saw us then I would worry.
“Keep the sail tight Lumpy.”
“Sir!”
Every time I shifted the tiller slightly it affected the sail. Lumpy could not just sit there. He was constantly adjusting the sail and avoiding the boom as it came across. The harbour entrance beckoned. I took the German map out of my greatcoat pocket. I had it folded to the entrance of the harbour. I laid it before me. There was just enough ambient light for me to see where the minefields were. They might just be our salvation.
Chapter 24
Our luck held until the harbour entrance. A searchlight suddenly picked us out and a command shouted in German. “That’s it Lumpy. Hit the man you can see and then the light.”
As he cracked off the two shots I let loose the white sailed boat. The angle must have been perfect for it leapt ahead of us. I steered towards the gun, which they would not be expecting. I heard a cry and then the light went out.
“Keep the line taut and use your last three bullets on anything that moves.”
The machine gun rattled out. I braced myself for the bullets to strike us but they hit the other fishing boat instead. I heard the whine of the patrol boat’s engine as it used full power to reach this sudden danger. I knew that the minefield began half a mile from the harbour entrance and the safe channel ran north to south. I headed east towards the mines.
“Hutton, have you any grenades?”
“Two sir in my pack.”
I reached in and found one. The gunner was still firing at the better target, the boat with the white sail. I turned the rudder to the end of the breakwater and the gun. We were safer here for the gun could not fire at us. We slowed a little but, as we came near to the wall I pulled the pin and lobbed the grenade in the air. When I put the tiller hard over, the wind caught our sails and we leapt across the water like a greyhound. The grenade’s explosion filled the harbour with light and actually made us fly faster as the concussion spread. I saw the patrol boat. It was heading for the boat with the dead Germans. We had bought some time.
The light faded and I pushed the tiller in the opposite direction. We skidded around the end of the mole and into the open sea. I felt the difference in motion as soon as we did so.
The machine gun on the patrol boat barked and I saw the other fishing boat begin to sink. The patrol boat slowed and I saw a searchlight play along the water then it disappeared as we became hidden by the end of the mole.
“Hutton, watch out for mines.”
“Mines!”
“Yes I intend to go through the minefield.”
“Isn’t that dangerous?”
“I think they are intended to stop big ships so with luck we should be able to sail through them. You just watch out for them. Shout when you see one.”
I smiled as he crossed himself. The wind was pushing us along quickly now. We had no second boat as an anchor. Of course the Germans had an engine but they were four times the width of us. I would choose the narrower channels. I glanced over my shoulder; the patrol boat was half a mile behind and emerging from the harbour. The searchlight was playing around the area in front of the bows.
“Hutton, rifle!”
He passed me the gun. I leaned on the tiller to keep the same course and then I rested my elbow on the transom. I aimed at the searchlight. I was not helped by the fishing boat rising and falling. My first shot struck the bridge and elicited a scream of pain. My second hit the bow. I had one bullet left. I breathed slowly and, as the stern came up, fired and the searchlight shattered as it was hit. I began to turn and as I did a rogue wave hit us and the Lee Enfield slipped to the bottom of the channel. It had served us well.
“Sir, minefield ahead!”
I heard the patrol boat engine as it was gunned. They were following our last course. They could not see us. The red sail would be almost invisible at night. “I will head to starboard. Shout out when you see a mine.”
This was like a game of Russian Roulette with the biggest bullets in the world. “Mine ahead!”
I turned the tiller the smallest amount I could and waited for Lumpy’s next shout. Nothing came but the patrol boat’s machine gun began to fire ahead. He was to our left. Suddenly a mine exploded. The little fishing boat seemed to rise in the air. In that brief instant the patrol boat saw us and began to turn.
I reached into Hutton’s bag and found the last grenade. “Lumpy, what fuse is in these Mills Bombs?”
“Ten seconds sir.”
“Thanks.”
The patrol boat had slowed and I could see a man on the bow directing the captain. Had I a rifle I could have hit him easily. They fired ahead again. I jammed the tiller to the left, towards them.
“Mine ahead!”
I edged the tiller to starboard. The bullets struck another mine behind us and sent us on a little tidal wave as it exploded. I heard Hutton shout, “Shit!” I saw the prickly points of the mine less than a hand span away. The light from the explosion sent the patrol boat back on our tail. I pulled the pin on the grenade. I had one chance. If I failed then it would either be the prisoner of war camp or a damp grave for the two of us. I released the handle and counted to five. I threw the grenade as far in the air as I could.
“Hold on Hutton. This could get messy!”
The grenade exploded in the air just over the bow of the patrol boat. Whether it was shrapnel which hurt the captain or an instinctive reaction to the explosion I have no idea but the patrol boat veered into a mine and was thrown into the air. We were hurled forward. We had no control over our direction. If fate had a mine waiting for us then we, like the crew of the patrol boat, would be dead.
We almost crashed back into the water. “Hutton, let the sail go slack.” I had worked out that a tight sail meant we sailed quickly. I needed time to think. The remains of the patrol boat burned behind me and I looked at the German map. If we headed due west we would be out of the treacherous minefield. I looked at the compass. I pushed the tiller over. We went through the mines slowly but we went through safely. When we reached the other side I grinned and began to laugh. “Now we just need to cross the English Channel.”
“After that sir, it should be no problem!”
He was, of course, tempting fate. I took out a canteen and drank some water. Once that was done I took the compass and laid it on the thwarts before me. “Tight sail again Lumpy. We now need speed.”
As we headed through the dark towards the invisible coast of England I filled and lit my pipe. We had done well. I knew we were not home, not even close to home but there was, at least, light at the end of this tunnel.
I saw Hutton lighting Albert’s pipe. He made a better stab at his second effort. The compass showed we were still heading north by north west and we were on course. I glanced at my hand which was still covered in the blood of the man whose throat I cut. It was the first time I had ever killed with a knife. If I had thought about it I would not have gone through with it but I just reacted. I shuddered at the memory. War makes a man do things which are alien to his nature.
The wind picked up a mile or so off shore. �
��We’ll be home in no time if this keeps up sir.”
I looked up at the rag of canvas tied to the mast head. It had begun to veer alarmingly so that we were being pushed further north than north west. I glanced behind and saw that the waves were growing in size. This was where my inexperience could hurt us. Did I reduce sail? Did I tack?
“I am going to try to bring us further west Lumpy. Hang on this could get rough.”
As I pushed the tiller over slightly a huge wave deposited an enormous amount of water into the bottom of the boat. I quickly put the tiller back to its original position. We were almost flooded to the sides of the boat. Lumpy’s legs were under water.
“Blood hell, sir! Don’t do that again or we will be in Davy Jones’ locker!”
“Get bailing, Lumpy.”
He found a tin mug which was used for bailing and I began to throw handfuls out with my free hand. My move had been a disaster. We were so heavy that we were barely making headway. I looked behind and saw that the waves were now five or six feet high. A sudden storm had blown up. The rain began to fall too. We were in danger of being swamped. Lumpy could not reduce sail for he was desperately trying to bail us out and I had to hold a straight course or we would be sunk. I had felt so clever at outwitting the Germans I had forgotten that the sea was the common enemy. In addition we were now out of sight of land. I looked down to the compass. It had gone; washed overboard. With a cloud filled sky I had no means of navigating. We would have to go where the wind took us.
The wind was gaining in intensity but Hutton was bravely battling the water in the bottom of the boat and he was winning. It was now just below the thwarts.
“When you can, Lumpy, reduce the sails a little or we will end up with rags.”
“Right sir. It is bloody tiring, I’ll tell you that. I couldn’t be a sailor!”
“I don’t think the Royal Navy uses sailing vessels now.”