Raider

by Griff Hosker

  Even as I was saying, "Yes sir," the sergeant turned around.

  "Tom?"

  It was Sergeant Greely. It was my old sergeant from the 1st Loyal Lancashire. "Yes it is Sergeant Greely, what happened?"

  The Major snapped, "We will have time for stories later on. Tom, you and Barker watch the rear." He pointed to the three men we had saved, "You three grab a weapon from the Germans. We have a long way to go." They grabbed weapons from the dead and followed the Major as he led the section north.

  I had no time to talk to Sergeant Greely even though a thousand questions raced around in my head. Gordy and I turned to face any threat from the south. We waited fifteen minutes and there was no pursuit; at least not in our vicinity. "Right, Gordy, let's go."

  As we ran he asked, "Did you know the Sergeant?"

  "He helped me to join up and I served with him in Belgium. I thought he was either dead or in the bag."

  "They will slow us up."

  "I know but do you want to leave them?"

  "Of course not, Corporal. I am just saying!"

  "Besides the sub will be there tomorrow night." I knew that I was clutching at straws; the odds were that they would slow us up too much and they were ordinary soldiers. They were not Commandos who were used to running for hour upon hour and disappearing in plain view.

  It took us half an hour but we caught up with Curtis who was the new Tail End Charlie. "How they doing, Ken?"

  "Your old sergeant is keeping them going but the other two lads are struggling."

  "I suppose if we had been prisoners since May and suffered at the hands of the SS then we might be a bit out of condition. Don't worry. There is no pursuit yet."

  We kept going for another hour and then we stopped. The Major waved me forward. "Have you still got your Silva compass Harsker?"

  "Yes sir."

  He took out his map. "Then you get to lead us through these salt marshes. I reckon it will be slow but they won't be able to follow us. This is the course we need to take." He pointed out the route on the map.

  "You can rely on me." I turned to him and said, quietly, "It's Sergeant Greely, sir. What are the odds?"

  The Major nodded, "I know, small world eh? Don't worry Tom, we won’t leave an old comrade behind. If we do then we might as well give up because we will have lost the war. That is what makes us different from them."

  The next hour was a nightmare. We kept twisting and turning on the dry parts of ground and I had to keep us heading the right direction. But for the compass I think we might have perished but it kept us on course and when we found dry land and the D 452 I knew that we had a chance. We stopped so that the three escapees could have some water and some of our rations. They needed it more than we did. They looked emaciated. I checked my watch. We had three hours to cover seven miles. If we did not have the three men with us then it would have been easy. With them it would be harder.

  Sergeant Greely came over to me, "Corporal eh?" I nodded. "Commandos?"

  "Yes Sarge, a new unit. We operate behind the enemy lines. Do you remember Major Foster, he was a Captain in Belgium?"

  "Aye I thought I recognised him."

  "How come you chose tonight to break out?"

  The Major's voice was almost in my ear, "Right Harsker, you can catch up later on. Take the point. We will risk the road and try to make good time. You are our eyes and ears at the front. Sergeant Grant, take the rear with Barker. You three will have to try to keep up. There is a submarine waiting for us so if you can keep going it will be worth it."

  "Don't worry about us sir. We won't hold you up." Sergeant Greely sounded determined. He was more like his old self.

  "Good man. Harsker, a good pace if you please."

  I was acutely aware that I had three weakened men behind me and I tried to keep a steady pace. I also had to keep peering and listening ahead. The three men had boots on and I could hear them thudding on the road behind me. We were silent. I stopped every half hour. Each time I did both the Major and Sergeant Greely waved me forward. I kept looking at my watch. We were tantalisingly close to the pickup point. It would be awful to miss the rendezvous by minutes.

  We had been lucky hitherto and our luck had to run out. Just a mile from the beach and, with forty five left before the submarine left, I spotted a road block and checkpoint. They had a motorcycle blocking the road between a derelict, bombed out house and a low wall. If we went around it then we would miss our submarine. I put my hand up and scurried back.

  "Sir, there is a road block."

  "How many men?"

  Just two. They have a motorcycle."

  Sergeant, go with the Corporal and Barker get rid of them. I am not going to miss the submarine just because two men stand in our way."

  As we hurried up the road Gordy said, "I am not going to bring this rifle all the way here and not use it properly. If you two go left and right I can take out one of them with my rifle."

  Daddy shook his head, "No, Barker. We do it silently. We use knives. You cover us."

  He reluctantly nodded. When we were a hundred yards from them he dropped to a prone position and I disappeared up the right. I realised that the motorcycle might be a Godsend. We could reach the beach quicker. The rubber soled shoes gave good purchase on the slippery soil through which we moved and yet they were silent. I could hear the Germans and smell their tobacco smoke even though I could not see them. I moved towards their voices. With Gordy as backup I did not need to wait until Daddy was in position. I moved quickly behind the house to approach them from the coast side.

  When I emerged around the corner of the bombed out building I was less than three yards from them and they had their backs to me. I laid my gun on the ground, drew my dagger, and then ran towards them. The shoes were silent and I pulled back the helmet of the man on the left to drag him towards me. I was aware that Daddy was not in position. I had to focus on my target. He put his hands up to help himself balance and to try to grab me. I plunged the knife into the side of his neck. There was a sudden crack as the Lee Enfield fired and the second German fell dead. I dragged the body of my dead German and pushed it into the derelict building. Daddy emerged from behind the wall and shook his head, "Sorry, Tom."

  "Don't worry about it. Get this body out of sight."

  The others raced up. "That's torn it." The Major turned to look back down the road. "That will have every Kraut for miles here in minutes. Curtis, take the bike and get to the beach. One of you get on the back. Signal the submarine. We will follow. Come on, we double time from here on. Corporal you and Barker watch the rear."

  There were more houses ahead. I knew that the gunshot would have alerted any of the inhabitants. I prayed that they were French and would stay within doors. I could smell the sea and the road was descending slightly towards it. Then I heard in the distance the unmistakeable whine of a truck as it climbed a gradient. It would be Germans. There were more trees than I had expected and I wondered if we could use them to hold off the Germans. It would allow the others the chance to escape but would doom us to a swift death with a bullet in the back of the neck. The Waffen SS did not forgive. It was when we were coming through a tree lined section that I had my idea. I stopped.

  "Gordy, keep watch." I took out the parachute and cut two of the cords from it. I broke the porcelain on my last two stick grenades and tied the cord to the arming string. I tied the parachute cords between the trees. The sound of the truck was closer now. It was on the downhill section and was making good time.

  "Hurry up Corp!"

  I finished tying the cords and I laid the last stick grenade next to the bole of the tree. "Done! Let's run!"

  We hurtled down the road after the others. When we reached the houses which were closest to the headland we saw that the beach was some sixty yards to our right. I risked a glance at my watch and saw that we had just five minutes left. I saw a flash from the sea. The submarine, at least, was there but would the dingy reach us before the Germans did? Would it be big
enough for eight of us? I could see the others just reaching Ken and the motorcycle on the sand. Any concerns I might have had ended when there was an explosion behind me. The Germans had tripped my booby trap. I hoped that would end any pursuit.

  The Major nodded when we reached him, "Another Harsker booby trap?"

  I nodded, barely able to breathe, "Nev taught me well sir." I looked at Harry Greely who nodded. He remembered the Spanish Civil War veteran who had taught us both so much.

  "There, I can see it!" Ken's finger pointed beyond the surf.

  Then I heard the sound of a vehicle in the distance. "And Jerry isn't far behind. Ken, take out your charge and your timer. Harsker go with him and try to buy some time!"

  "Yes sir."

  Ken brought his Bergen and followed me. He was opening his bag even as he ran. There was an old pre war ice cream stand at the head of the beach. We dropped next to it. I knelt and aimed my machine gun ahead. "Set the timer for five minutes and put the charge this side of the hut. It will blow the building in the direction of the road." I peered towards the sound of the vehicle which was approaching from the dark. I could see the glow from the burning German lorry. The two grenades would not have killed many but they would be on foot and disorientated. It was the second vehicle which was the greatest danger.

  "Done!"

  "Let's get the hell out of here!"

  We ran the hundred and fifty yards to the surf. The rubber dingy was there. The sailor said, "Sorry lads, I'll have to make two trips."

  The Major nodded. Daddy said, "You go with the dingy, sir. I'll stay here with Gordy and Harsker. We'll get the next boat." The Major hesitated, "Sir, you have the information."

  The Major nodded and clambered into the boat. It disappeared into the darkness. Daddy said, "Lie down in the water. We will be harder to see. Gordy, we rely on you to get the officers and sergeants first."

  "Don't worry Sarge, this rifle is a little beauty."

  The dimmed headlights of a German truck appeared and we saw men disgorge. Suddenly there was a crack and flare shot into the sky. As it descended it made night day and the German officer pointed a finger at the dinghy. Even as he shouted something Gordy's bullet smacked into him. The Germans dived for cover. I saw three of them setting up a machine gun. Daddy and I fired a burst at them. We missed but their evasive action delayed the setting up of the gun. Gordy fired again and one of the machine gunners fell.

  As the flare's light faded then the night became dark once more. "Sarge, let's head back into the sea. The water will give us protection." I had learned, at school that a bullet soon loses its velocity when fired into water. The chatter of the heavy machine gun began. They were firing blind and our movement had confused their aim. They were hitting the edge of the surf, where we had been.

  Daddy's voice came from the dark. "Back further into the water. We will stand up while it is still dark." By standing we were able to move quicker and we walked back until the water was up to our necks. The waves kept splashing over our heads but I hoped that it would hide us. The second flare put an end to that.

  Behind us I heard a voice, "Hang on lads! We are on our way back for you!"

  Two things happened at once. A fusillade of bullets flew across the sea and I heard a shout as Daddy was hit. Then the TNT went up. It was spectacular and lit the whole of the beach up. Behind me I heard the sailor's voice, "Bugger me!" I saw Germans thrown to the ground. The crew of the machine gun were scythed in two by the fragments of the hut. I waded through the water to Daddy.

  "Where are you hit?"

  "Shoulder and arm." He grinned weakly and nodded towards the inferno on the beach. "Nice explosion, Curtis."

  The rubber dinghy nudged into the back of my head. "The Sergeant is wounded. Here Gordy, give me a hand!" Between us we pushed Daddy so that he could be hauled aboard. I knew that I would not make it with the Bergen and so I took off my pack and put that in the dingy before hauling myself onboard. It was hard for my clothes were sodden and I was exhausted. I flopped in the boat as the sailors paddled back to the submarine.

  The Germans had advanced to the water's edge but the sea was dark and their shots were blind. When we bumped into the steel hull of the submarine I knew that we would make it.

  Chapter 11

  I had never been in a submarine before and I didn't realise how cramped they were. We were taken down the forward hatch. The leading seaman said, "Wounded man, sir."

  I heard a cultured voice say, "Take him to the sick bay attendant. Get a move on chaps, let's not over stay our welcome eh?"

  There was a dim red light when we entered the Stygian depths of the torpedo room. The dinghy was manhandled into the sub and then the hatch was closed.

  "Hatch secure."

  A voice came through the internal tannoy. "Diving!"

  There was no sound of an engine but I was aware that we were moving. One of the sailors handed me a blanket, "Here you are Army. We'll have some cocoa once we get under way." He nodded to the red light. "That will change to white soon enough. It looks like a brothel in Lime Street like this don't it?"

  The cheerful sailor wandered off. I looked around for Daddy and saw that he had been whisked off. There was just Gordy and me. The other sailor who remained was deflating the dinghy. "Where are the others?"

  "They have been taken to the mess. I'll take you once the captain gives the all clear." He nodded to the ceiling, "It will soon be daylight and I reckon the sea will be swarming with Krauts."

  Gordy asked, "How was the Sarge?"

  "He was hit twice and there was a ton of blood. Still he will be better off here than on the beach." I tried to sound confident but mum had told me of the effects of a couple of bullets. Uncle Lumpy had lost a forearm and hand because of a German bullet. I prayed that we would have a speedy trip back to Blighty. Daddy needed a hospital.

  I put my hands to my ears as we began to descend. They hurt. The seaman said, "Hold your nose, close your mouth and blow hard."

  I did as he suggested and the pressure eased slightly. Gordy asked, "How do you cope with being in this steel coffin?"

  "You get used to it. I take it you don’t like confined spaces?"

  Gordy shook his head, "Can't stand them."

  "Me, see I was a miner. I could have had exemption, been a Bevin Boy but I wanted to do my bit. My granddad died in the Great War and… well it suits me." He finished tying off the deflated dinghy and said, "Follow me and watch your heads."

  He led us through the narrow boat. It was so tight that you could not pass someone coming the other way. One of you had to duck into a side cabin. When we reached the mess the seaman said, "There you are. Door to door service eh?"

  Major Foster pushed over two mugs of cocoa. "You two did well. Shame about the Sergeant."

  "How is he sir?"

  The Major shook his head, "I am not sure. The SBA has stopped the bleeding and given him something for the pain. He is sedated but he needs a doctor. The Captain is heading for the nearest port rather than taking us to Weymouth." I nodded. It was not the best news but it was not the worst. "However I am not certain he can continue in the Commandos." He shrugged, "We will have to see."

  Poor Daddy would be mortified if he had to leave.

  I realised, as the Major turned to speak with Sergeant Greely, that they had been in the middle of a debrief. "So when you were cut off you headed for Calais."

  "Yes sir. There were about thirty of us left and we heard that they were getting them off from there but we got there too late. We joined up with the Highland Division. When they were surrounded about two hundred of us broke out and headed towards the Loire. Another rumour said there was going to be a landing there. We got as far as Brest and we were trapped. We had no food; the ammo had all gone and some of the lads were in a bad way."

  "How did you end up at St. Nazaire?"

  "One day some lorries arrived, Waffen SS and they took us to that camp you saw. We have been building submarine pens." I saw the Major start
. That was as important a piece of intelligence as anything else we had gathered.

  "Was there any damage to either the dock or the basin after the bombing?"

  Harry shook his head, "A bit of cosmetic damage that was all. The concrete is thick." He looked at the Major, "Was that what you were doing? Thinking about blowing it up?"

  "No Sergeant but we had to find out if the new German battleships could use it to repair. They obviously can."

  "I don’t think there is a bomb big enough to blow it up, sir and those pens are impregnable. They have been pouring concrete for weeks."

  "Why the trouble today, sergeant?"

  "Last week we had a new colonel arrive. The other one was a bastard but this new one, Colonel Erhart, had a murderous streak." He shook his head and looked to the other two for confirmation.

  One of them said, "Some of the lads were, well a bit careless with their work. It was our way of still doing our bit. The old Colonel had the lads beaten. This one had the man shot and the two who were working near him. We had to stop our sloppy work. Then he began beatings if he thought we weren't working hard enough. Fifteen men have died in the last six days. Some of the boys decided to make a break for it this morning. They thought they had nothing to lose. The four of them were shot and then the Colonel had the other men from their hut shot too. We had had enough."

  Sergeant Greely took up the story. "We were already planning on breaking out but when you lads shot the guards at the gate and blew up the house every goon in the camp ran to see what was going on. It was too good an opportunity and we jumped the goons in our hut and legged it. There were ten of us started out. The others were either shot or captured. Then we found you."

  "And I am glad you did. I shall write this down before I forget it." he began to write out what Harry had told him.

  I put down my empty cup and Harry said, "What happened to you?" I told him the story including Nev's death and the SS we had met. He nodded, "I reckon the only good German is a dead German. From now on I shoot every bastard first and ask questions later!" The war did that. It made mild mannered, reasonable men into killers who hated. I suppose I was in that category. I had slit enough throats and shot enough Germans now to be labelled as a cold blooded killer.