Allenby kept his mouth shut. There was not much humor in Goudie. Not any more.
Goudie said, “I’ll go and tell Archer the good news.” Frazer groaned. “Must you?”
“I’m short of good officers.” Goudie smiled, his teeth very white in his tanned face. “And he’s not as squeamish as some.” His shadow withdrew down the tent as he strode out
into the hard sunlight.
Frazer touched his burned side without realizing what he was doing.
“Bastard,” he said calmly. “What makes him tick?” “He tries to get under your skin.” Frazer smiled, “He does that all right.”
Allenby looked around at the small tent and remembered the moment below the power-plant wall when he had never expected to see this place again. He watched Frazer jamming things into a case, his tousled hair falling across his forehead.
They would still be together, no matter what else might happen to them.
They arrived at Gibraltar just before sunset. In spite of the fading light the sight was impressive as the overcrowded aircraft turned and plunged steeply towards the runway, which from the air looked no bigger than a plank.
The harbor and the bay was so crammed with shipping the hulls and superstructures seemed to overlap. There were several troopships which had once earned their keep as proud ocean liners, transports and repair vessels, landing craft of every class and size, and anchored and moored around them were the familiar dazzle-painted shapes of their escorts.
With its rugged crest touched with bronze in the dying sunlight the Rock looked what it had become, a symbol, something unbreakable. The streets were packed too. Khaki and blue, a great aimless press of figures taking their ease before the next offensive, and the one after that. Apart from a few muffled Moorish women there did not seem to be many of the opposite sex, although Allenby had heard there were some Wrens. They would have the pick of the whole place, he thought enviously.
Goudie banged out of a small office and watched as some seamen picked up their bags.
“He’s here. We’re to join him at once.” Allenby asked, “Who, sir?”
Goudie shrugged. “The Boss.”
They followed him to a small khaki truck.
Frazer said, “Prothero must have had a plane all to himself, eh?”
Allenby grinned. “He’s big enough.”
Frazer, who had visited the Rock several times to refuel when he had been part of a long-range escort to Ceylon, pointed out the fortifications and heavy guns to Allenby, but he had to admit to being completely lost as they were driven deeper into the defenses. Eventually, on foot, they were led down one of the many passageways, tunnels which over the years had been carved deep into the Rock itself.
It was cool after the sweat and dust, the discomfort of the plane whose pilot must surely have been a stuntman in happier times.
Passes were examined repeatedly, faces watched them curiously, and Frazer found himself wondering how many others had come here like lambs to the slaughter.
They were shown into a brightly lit office, its crude walls bedecked with maps and aerial photographs.
Commander Aubrey Prothero strode across the floor and shook their hands in strict order of seniority.
He was dressed in white, and his shorts around his massive girth looked as if they could have been used as a tent.
There was a second officer present, a full captain with a DSO and other decorations on his immaculate uniform. He was thin and hawk-faced, pale beside Prothero, as if he rarely saw the light of day.
Prothero introduced him gravely. He was Captain Jocelyn Heywood, Chief of Staff to the Flag Officer in charge of Special Operations.
Frazer studied him. He was important, so whatever they were going to attempt was equally so.
He wondered how Prothero felt about serving under a peacetime regular, about whom he had been so scathing at their first meeting.
They all sat down, Prothero on the edge of a desk. He probably mistrusted the canvas chairs.
Captain Heywood said, “I have read all the reports on your recent operation. For some of the people it was a first time,” his eyes rested on Allenby but only briefly. “The results for the most part were satisfactory, our casualties minimal.”
Allenby listened to the captain’s cool, unhurried voice as he went over the main features of the raid, but in his mind’s eye he saw the sapper as he fell dead amongst the rubble, the enemy engineer being stabbed by the partisans on the catwalk. And the two marines who had died on the pier. Minimal. But only just.
“However,” Heywood glanced at Prothero, “there are a few points I must mention. You, Lieutenant Frazer, were reluctant to get under way without waiting for Mr. Allenby to join you. Your stubbornness could have jeopardized the whole operation. Loyalty is the finest quality in any man. Personal relationships that become too strong are something else. Remember that, will you?”
He did not wait and turned to Allenby. “You disagreed with Major Thomas, I believe.”
Allenby flushed. “I thought he acted foolishly, sir. I could not just throw a switch and blow down the whole village. There were people in those houses-” His voice trailed away.
Heywood nodded. “As I thought. But you were there to do a job. What you have volunteered to do.” He darted a glance at Goudie and added sharply, “Major Thomas has made a full report too.”
Goudie met his gaze angrily. “I don’t give a fuck what Thomas said!”
Prothero lurched forward. “What did you say?”
Goudie said abruptly, “I’m sorry, sir. But that man Thomas is bad all the way through. He’s a killer. I’ve been with him enough to see the pleasure he gets from it.”
Frazer looked at the captain, expecting him to explode or have Goudie arrested for his outburst.
Instead Heywood asked, “How long have you been with Special Operations? Eighteen months, I believe. And before that you proved yourself a brave and resourceful officer both here and in the Channel. Very demanding of any man.”
Goudie stared at him blankly. “If you’re saying I need a rest, sir, that I’m over the hill-“
Heywood said, “I shall decide what is or is not to be done, right?” He leaned forward, his voice still very calm. “I like initiative. Beyond that it becomes insubordination or worse.”
He nodded to Prothero. “Carry on, if you please.”
Prothero looked at the three officers, his tiny eyes glinting dangerously in his ruddy face.
“Next month the Allies will invade Sicily, Operation Husky.” His eyes flickered momentarily to his superior as if he expected him to challenge his show of confidence.
Or maybe, Frazer thought, he was trying to repair the damage of Goudie’s outburst, or of Thomas’s handling of the raid itself.
Prothero continued in his resonant voice, “The Germans will contest every foot of the way, as they always have. Their allies, however, no matter what Mussolini may think, will be eager to change sides once the line of battle moves forward.”
Frazer thought of the young Italian officer they had buried at sea. There would be many like him. And the girl in the photograph, what would happen to her?
“It will be the example of leading politicians and staff officers that will point the way. They need to be brave as well as convinced that we shall win the final round. For if their German masters discover what they are about, their punishment will be swift and terrible, the Gestapo will make sure of that. “
Captain Heywood crossed his legs as if he were growing impatient. Prothero took the hint. “There is one such staff officer who even now is said to be under Gestapo observation. He is a well-respected officer of a fine old Italian family, General Gustavo Tesini, whose division was one of the only ones to distinguish itself in the early North African campaign, before Rommel appeared on the desert scene.”
Frazer found himself frowning. The war in the Mediterranean, especially the army’s part, was only something he had read about. And yet, the general’s name see
med to strike a bell in his mind.
Prothero’s eyes shone like chips of glass.
“I thought you might remember. General Tesini is or was a friend of your father’s. They used to race against each other, I understand. “
Frazer nodded, amazed at Prothero’s store of knowledge.
“Yes, sir. I met him twice, when my old man was racing the Onondaga, couple of years before the war, I think it was.”
Prothero beamed so that his pointed beard jutted forward like a grey tusk.
“That’s the one. If he openly displays his mistrust of the Germans the whole Italian army will desert to our cause whenever the moment offers itself. It would be like Rommel turning against Hitler!”
Heywood said, “Reliable sources have informed me that he is prepared to come over. But it has to be before, er, Operation Husky, otherwise it would be seen as prudence by the general and nothing more than a self-motivated act.”
Prothero grunted, annoyed at the interruption. “General Tesini is far too important for the Germans to act against him. Yet. He owns a small island off the nor’east coast of Sardinia, for he is a rich man, and has estates and houses elsewhere in Italy. But the island had always been a retreat for him and his family. That is where he will be, must be if you are going to take him.”
Goudie sat bolt upright. “It’s a hell of a long chance, sir.”
Heywood said smoothly, “Here at Gibraltar two motor gunboats have been prepared for the Special Boat Squadron. They were intended for another task, but this is the more pressing. They are fitted with extra fuel tanks, and each crew is handpicked. Once you are fully briefed you will take the two boats to Tunis. At an economical speed you should be there in around two and a half days.” His eyes moved across their set faces. “It is all the time I can spare for you to familiarize yourselves with the craft and their crews.” His glance rested on Goudie. “You are the most experienced MGB commander we have. It will be up to you.”
Frazer looked at Goudie’s tense features. Heywood might have thought differently had he known about Goudie’s bitter
ness, and the fact that he was obviously driven beyond the limit.
Heywood added, “The general has made just one stipulation. You bring off his family and some personal items, or it’s not on, right?”
Goudie looked at Frazer and grimaced. “Why not, the more the merrier.”
Heywood said quietly, “If anything goes wrong while you’re there, the general is not to be taken by the enemy alive, do I make myself clear?”
Goudie said, “You do, sir.”
Heywood stood up for the first time. He was very tall.
“Any other comments?” He glanced at a wall clock. “I have a staff conference in fifteen minutes.” He saw Allenby hesitate and asked, “You wish to ask something?”
“The village, sir, were the Sicilians there safe after the explosions?”
Heywood eyed him impassively. “For a while, Allenby. Then the SS arrived there and executed fifty males, men and boys. “
Allenby stared round the brightly lit room. “Oh my God.”
Frazer said, “They had nothing to do with it. Not a damn thing. “
Goudie picked up his battered cap and stared at it.
“It’ll make the Sicilians and Italians hate the Krauts all the more, won’t it, sir?” He smiled bleakly. “Or was that the whole idea in the first place?”
Heywood walked to the door. To Prothero he said, “Ten minutes then.”
Prothero waited and then said to the two lieutenants, “You carry on. I’ve detailed a rating to take you to get cleaned up and fed.”
They walked out but as the door swung behind them they heard Prothero bellow, “I’ll not stand for that kind of behavior, do you understand? I don’t give a toss if you are a bloody hero, it cuts no ice with me! If the raid had gone wrong Major Thomas could have got all of you to a safe place in the hills-could you?”
The rating coughed discreetly and Allenby and Frazer followed him down yet another crudely hewn tunnel.
“Is Commander Prothero finished yet?”
They both stopped dead and Frazer exclaimed, “I know that voice!”
She came round a bend from a smaller passageway, her white shirt ghostly against the rock wall.
She held out her hand. “What a way to meet!”
Second Officer Lynn Balfour looked from one to the other, her white-topped tricorn hat barely controlling her short auburn hair.
Frazer said, “I should have thought of that.” He felt suddenly clumsy and awkward. He had not expected to see her here, although it was quite obvious she was not surprised at this meeting.
She said, “Must get on. There’s a lot to do. You people keep us busy at HQ.” She became serious. “I’m glad you’re safe. Both of you.”
Frazer asked, “Any chance of taking an hour off? A meal, maybe?”
She eyed him thoughtfully. “I doubt that. I could try.” She seemed to become confused. “But I’m not really sure, there’s-“
Frazer said, “Well, think about it, will you?” He wanted to touch her, to protect her from whatever it was that was tearing her apart.
Allenby asked quietly, “How is the Leading Wren I-
She looked at him and then replied, “Joanna? She’s fine.” That was all she said.
Allenby said, “I’ll go on ahead, Keith.” He smiled at the Wren. “It’s nice to see you again.”
She stared after him. “Poor chap. He still feels it badly.”
Frazer smiled. “You made him feel much better.” He saw her guard drop instantly and added gently, “You told him her name, don’t you see? She’s real to him now. Someone to care about if he gets home again.”
She stepped back slightly, her lips parted as she said, “Don’t say it! Please don’t speak like that!”
Frazer said, “I’m sorry. Really. But I’m also a realist.”
Voices echoed along the passage, Prothero and Goudie apparently laughing together.
Frazer said, “They must have had a drink.” He did not see the sudden anguish in her blue eyes. Then she said, “I really can’t make that date tonight. ” She watched his face feature by feature as if searching for something. Or someone. She tried to laugh. “Anyway I’m engaged. What would people say?”
Prothero’s gigantic shadow flowed around them and he boomed, “Ah, here you are, Lynn. Where would I be without you?”
Frazer watched her small, slim. figure merge with Prothero’s shadow as they turned down the passageway where the conference was to be held.
Frazer said, “Damn!”
Goudie fell in step beside him. “Fouled it up again, have you?”
Frazer said, “Second Officer Balfour’s engaged. Who’s the lucky chap?”
Goudie glanced at his profile. “Got to you, did she?” He relented. “That was two years ago. He was one of my blokes at Felixstowe. Bought it one night off the Hook of Holland.”
Frazer swung round. “But she just said-“
Goudie said harshly, “I was there when it happened. E-Boat’s cannon shell cut him in half. Don’t tell her I told you.”
They saw Allenby waiting for them and Goudie quickened his pace. Frazer stared along the other passageway, but it was deserted. Two years. Living a nightmare. Clinging to the memory that had gone with all the others.
He had pushed it to the back of his mind since that day in Portsmouth. But he knew he had been deceiving himself all the time. She was not just another attractive girl, nor was it an idea of conquest because she did not even appear to like him. She was different. And now this. How could he expect to compete with someone she loved as if he were still alive to
share her hopes?
Sub-Lieutenant Archer’s tall shadow loomed along the wall, his face alive with questions and curiosity. Frazer said, “Oh, Christ.”
Goudie did not seem to notice. “Well, well, Sub. Just in time to buy us all drinks.”
Archer looked quickly at Frazer. “All se
t up, is it, sir?” Goudie said, “Wait and see. Drinks first.”
He sounded quite cheerful and it was hard to see him as he
had been earlier.
Frazer said, “I am going to hang one on tonight, all night if necessary.”
Goudie smiled. “Good show. For tomorrow, who knows?”
The hammering seemed to be crushing Frazer’s skull as he fought off a tangled sheet and prised open his eyes in the glaring overhead light.
He had been enduring a nightmare, flames, men shouting and dying. He groaned. That was no nightmare.
He stared dazedly across the small room and realized for the first time what had wakened him; it also explained the banging in his skull.
The door was wide open, and a dishevelled figure in a dressing gown peered around the room like a terrier after a rat.
The man said angrily, “I thought you were all bloody dead in here!”
Frazer looked at Allenby who lay face down on his bed. He could well be dead, he thought, and he remembered vaguely how he had half carried him here to their temporary billet and then undressed him. He doubted if Allenby would remember anything in the morning.
He groaned and tried to moisten his lips. His tongue tasted like a piece of dirty felt.
The man in the doorway persisted, “Which one of you is the Canadian?”
Frazer tried to work it out. Goudie getting terribly drunk, and Archer picking an argument with one of the garrison officers who had seemed intent on killing him.
“I am.” Another great effort. “Why?”
The man glared at him. “Telephone. Down the passageway. Right outside my cabin, that’s why.” He strode away, adding, “Pity some people can’t show some consideration for the watchkeepers!”
Frazer got to his feet and for a moment he thought the awakened officer was back again, but this time the banging was inside his head.
He dragged his reefer jacket over his shoulders and lurched out into the passageway. Nothing moved except for the telephone which swung slowly from its flex.
What the hell was wrong, he wondered. Goudie had gone off his head, or maybe Archer was in trouble again.
His bare feet slapped on the tiled floor and he shivered. Strange on the Rock, how it was blazing hot by day and could feel like ice during the night.
The Volunteers Page 9