o
Dombas and joins the Andalsnes road further north - here. What's that? Forty or fifty miles? And it means we keep well away from the main German axis of advance but we still run parallel to it.'
'What if the enemy is already past Dombas by then?' asked Larsen.
Tanner shrugged. 'Do you have a better idea, sir? Perhaps we'll find some more transport. Maybe in Vagamo.'
'Good,' said Chevannes. 'This is what we'll do. First, we rest for a short while, eat what food we have left and drink something. Then we head for the bridge.'
Tanner's men gazed at Chevannes with contempt, then delved into their packs and squatted on the ground. A cool spring breeze blew across the valley, bringing with it the smell of woodsmoke, which blended with the strong scent of pine. Even though it was hardly cold, Tanner saw that Bell and Kershaw were shivering. 'Listen, boys,' he said, to all his men, 'this is a blow, I know, but we've got to put it out of our minds. It's in the past. We need to look forward now. Come on, I know we can do it.' Tanner watched the resigned nods, the faces blank with exhaustion and renewed despair.
He wandered away from them, and leant against a tree, then let his back slide down the trunk until he was squatting on the damp, needle-strewn ground at its base. Taking off his helmet, he ran his hands through his hair and took several deep breaths. Christ, his words had seemed fatuous. 'Chin up, lads, it's not all bad!' Jesus. Hardly inspiring. He wondered how long they would be content to follow him. What reserves of strength were left in the tank? A man's will to survive was only so strong. At some point it would break - sooner rather than later, if there were any more soul-destroying setbacks.
The crack of a twig made him turn.
'I'm sorry to disturb you, Sergeant,' said Sandvold, 'but I wondered whether I might talk to you a moment.'
Tanner began to get to his feet.
'Please,' said the Professor. 'You rest where you are.'
'What is it?' asked Tanner.
Sandvold kneaded his hands together. He now wore a full beard, grey at the chin. It made him seem older, more venerable. 'I want to apologize,' he said.
'For what?'
'I should have backed you up at the farm. If I had we might have persuaded Lieutenant Chevannes. Then we would have reached the Allies before it was too late. I—' He cleared his throat. 'It was weak of me, but I thought I should not get involved in military decisions.'
'What's done is done, Professor,' said Tanner, 'but we've still got a long way to go. There will be other difficult decisions to make. But if you're prepared to trust me, you could back me up. If we work together, we'll have a better chance of succeeding.'
Sandvold nodded thoughtfully. 'All right, Sergeant,' he said. 'I will do my best.'
Soon after, Chevannes gave the order to move off. Tanner tried again to rouse his men. 'We'll still make it, boys,' he told them, slapping their backs as they got to their feet. 'We will. Don't lose heart.'
'It's easy to say that, Sarge,' said McAllister, 'but I felt knackered before and I'm even more done in now.'
'Listen, Mac,' said Tanner, grasping his shoulder, 'you either give up now, and at best spend the rest of the war in prison, or you keep going. I know what I'm going to do and it would be terrific if you'd keep me company. We're not high on a mountain now, we're on a decent track. We'll be at the bridge by nightfall and once we've got across we can have a rest. It's not far. You can do it.'
They were strung out in a patrol line. Of the enemy there was still no sign. The track passed through dense forest that ran almost all the way to the river's edge, giving them good cover.
'Don't worry, Sarge,' said Sykes, drawing alongside him. 'They're good lads. They'll be all right.'
'You think so?'
'Course. We were a bit low back then, but you adjust. We've got a bit of grub inside us now. That helps.'
'Perhaps.'
"Ere, Sarge,' said Sykes, after they had walked on in silence for a short while, 'I've been wanting to ask all afternoon. How the hell did you get away from those Jerries? I saw that officer pointing his pistol straight at your bloody head and the next minute I heard a shot. I thought you was a goner.'
Tanner smiled. 'He made a mistake. I brought my arm up quickly and simply knocked the gun to the side of my head. By the time he'd pressed the trigger the shot was already wide.'
Sykes whistled. 'Blimey.'
'He couldn't react quicker than the speed of my arm. No one can because the eyes don't pick up the movement fast enough - not at that distance. If he'd been standing a few feet away and pointing that pistol, I really would have been in trouble. So, anyway, before he knew what was happening, I'd given him a right hook to remember me by. The men around him weren't quick enough either, so I grabbed the machine-gun and fired before they could do anything. You've got to remember they weren't expecting it. They'd relaxed, rifles on their shoulders, and were enjoying watching their commander get his own back. But I was lucky after that. Got a bullet through my trouser. Another inch and, well—'
'Did you kill him? The officer, that is?'
'Zellner? I don't think so. Broke his nose. Possibly his jaw.' He grinned. 'Any explosives left after your little diversion? I haven't even looked in my pack yet.'
'Not much. A carton of Nobel's and a few sticks of Polar. It seemed the right thing to do at the time.'
'Damn right, Stan. It's thanks to you those bastards aren't at our backs now. You did well.'
'But we don't know when we might need some more.'
'We'll cross that path if and when.' They were silent for a moment, then Tanner said, 'You don't have any beadies left, do you? I could murder a smoke.'
'I'll roll you one.'
Sykes pulled out the tobacco and papers he had taken from the captured Germans a few days before. 'Sarge?'he said eventually, passing the cigarette to Tanner. He eyed him furtively as he did so.
'What?' said Tanner, pausing to light his cigarette.
'It's probably nothing, and I don't want you to take this the wrong way—'
'What, Stan?'
'It's just that, well - nah, it's nothing.'
'Spit it out.'
'Well, I'd just like to know how those Stukas knew it was us. And how did those trucks know where we'd be?'
'They've had aerial reconnaissance buzzing over nearly non-stop in case you hadn't noticed.'
'Yes, but not first thing this morning. We didn't see anything before them Stukas turned up, did we?'
'What are you saying?'
Sykes made sure no one was listening, then said, in a hushed voice, 'I'm hoping we haven't got a spy among us.'
'A spy?' Tanner gaped at him. 'Are you joking, Stan? Who?'
'I don't know, do I?'
'And, more to the point, how? Don't you think we'd have noticed by now? I mean, how on earth would anyone be contacting the enemy? We've been together pretty much all the time.'
'Yes, but not all the time. There've been times when we've been kipping, when we've wandered off to - you know . . . and so on. We don't know what those Norwegians are carrying in their rucksacks. Perhaps they've got a radio or something.'
'But wireless sets are pretty big. And how could they use it without anyone else seeing?'
'I don't know. All I'm saying is that this whole thing seems fishy to me. I keep thinking about how those Jerries keep dogging our every move and that makes me think someone's tipping them the wink. That's all.'
Tanner was quiet.
'Look, Sarge,' Sykes added, 'I don't claim to know much about this sort of thing but you have to admit it's a bit strange. I mean, you yourself thought those Jerries were waiting for us in Tretten. For that matter, how did that mountain patrol know to come after us back on the other side of the valley?'
'That could have been because of air reconnaissance. At Tretten, they might simply have worked it out. I don't know. You don't think maybe we're becoming overly suspicious?'
'I don't know. I still think those Stukas arriving was
odd. No buzzing around beforehand. They came straight over. Knew exactly who we was and where ... Sarge?'
'I'm thinking, Stan, if any one of us could have had the time to make some kind of signal.'
Sykes shrugged.
Tanner said, 'I suppose someone could. Unlikely, but possible.'
'So?'
'We keep this to ourselves and watch everyone - the Norwegians at any rate.' They walked on in silence, Tanner deep in thought. It seemed so fantastical, yet there was no denying that the enemy did seem to have been second-guessing their movements. A result of logical thought processes and aerial reconnaissance, or a more sinister source of intelligence? My God. It hardly bore thinking about.
The sun had disappeared, casting the valley in deep shadow. A shiver ran down Tanner's back, whether from the cold or the suspicion that the corporal might be right, he couldn't say.
Chapter 17
They reached the bridge safely. A sliver of moon appeared, but the valley was dark and still. Although an occasional light twinkled from the farms and houses round about, not a soul stirred. Once again, Tanner was struck by how far away the war seemed, yet only a dozen or so miles to the south-east a two-day battle had been fought. He could still smell the whiff of woodsmoke on the night breeze, but he knew that was as likely to be from a home fire as the blazing forest near Kvam.
They crossed the bridge, Tanner cringing at the sound of the studded boots on the wooden struts. They were bunched up now, walking together so they didn't lose one another. 'Keep together, boys,' Tanner told his men, and to Sykes he added, 'Don't take your eyes off those Norwegians. No matter how dark, keep within arm's reach.'
They walked in silence along the soft verge that ran close to the northern bank of the Sjoa river to deaden the sound of their footsteps. Even so, Tanner sensed they were dragging their feet; he was too. Every step seemed harder. His shoulders ached, his knees hurt, his calves burnt. In the faint creamy night light, he could see that Sandvold was almost falling asleep as he stumbled on.
'Sir,' he said to Chevannes, 'we should stop soon.'
Chevannes snorted. 'And this from the man who never thinks we should rest at all.'
'I need to rest,' muttered Sandvold. 'I cannot go much further.'
Chevannes lit a match and squinted at Anna's map. 'We're near Heidel, I think.'
'Yes,' agreed Anna. 'It's not much, a few houses and farms, that's all.'
'Very well,' said Chevannes, 'we will look for somewhere to rest for a few hours. A hut, a farmhouse, a barn. We can try to find food in the morning.'
For once Tanner found himself agreeing with the Frenchman and only a short distance further on a farmhouse loomed, set back from the road. It was dark, with no light showing, but in the drive and the yard there were signs of vehicle tracks.
'Larsen, go and have a look round,' said Chevannes, as they clustered at the open gate. Larsen, with Nielssen accompanying him, walked forward cautiously. Tanner glanced round his men, dark shadows all, leaning against the gate, most so tired they could barely stand.
When the Norwegians returned, the news was good. 'It's empty,' said Larsen. 'Someone's been here recently, though.'
'Sergeant,' said Chevannes to Tanner, 'organize guards. The rest, follow me into the house.'
'Hep, you can take first watch with me,' said Tanner.
Hepworth groaned. 'Sarge, why's it have to be me?'
'Would you rather be woken up in an hour? This way you get it over and done with.' He leant his machine-gun against the gate. 'Now, stay here and watch the road.'
'Where are you going, Sarge?'
'For a nose round. I won't be long.'
Tanner watched the others head into the house, then walked quietly towards the farm. There were two barns and several other outbuildings, while to the back a shallow field rose steadily towards the patchily wooded valley sides. The house, he noticed, was shuttered, and effectively so - only the faintest light could be seen from within.
The smell of woodsmoke again. A wisp now floated from the chimney. Good, he thought. They've found some scoff. His stomach groaned.
Back at the gate he found Hepworth leaning against it, his head in his arms.
'Hep,' he said, 'wake up.'
'Hm?' said Hepworth. 'Sorry, Sarge ...'
Tanner left him and, taking his machine-gun, walked across the road. There was only one way the Germans could come, he reasoned, and that was from Sjoa. He had his rifle and the MG set up on its bipod. The night was so quiet that if any vehicles approached he knew he would hear them a long way off.
Satisfied that should there be any sign of the enemy he could raise the alarm and get everyone hidden in the woods behind the farm, he sat down on the bank, listening to the water hurrying over the rocks in the river below and thinking of what Sykes had said earlier. He felt sure it couldn't be Sandvold, yet the professor had been in Oslo during the first days of the occupation and had admitted to him that he had been reluctant to leave. Perhaps the story of his mother was a lie. Perhaps he was working for the Nazis after all. Then he considered Larsen and Nielssen. Again, it was possible, but seemed so unlikely. If one was a spy, he could surely have killed the other two and taken Sandvold to the Germans long before they ever reached the Balberkamp.
He thought about Anna. In truth, he'd thought about her quite a lot over the past two days, although it troubled him that he should even consider her as a spy. Yet there was no denying that she had been very keen to help them - perhaps overly so. But if she was a traitor, how was she passing on information? She carried a rucksack, but was it big enough for a wireless? Tanner wasn't sure. And what was her motive? He shook his head. It didn't make sense.
And, of course, there was Chevannes. No one, in his view, had done more to hinder them at every turn. And yet it couldn't be the Frenchman - of that he was sure. Maybe it really was just paranoia.
Sleep. That was what he needed. Sleep and food. Perhaps he'd be able to see the situation more clearly after that.
An hour later Sykes and Bell relieved him and Hepworth.
'Go on, Sarge. Get inside,' Sykes told him. 'We found a whole load of tins of Maconochie's and a few bottles of vino too. There's no doubt about it, some of our boys were here not so long ago.'
'Probably till this afternoon,' muttered Tanner. He shook Hepworth awake. 'Wakey, wakey, Hep, you useless sod. Time for some food.' Hepworth grunted then staggered after him.
Inside, Tanner found Chevannes and Nielssen sitting at the table, one empty and a further half-drunk bottle of wine between them.
'Where's the professor?' he asked.
'Upstairs,' said Chevannes, pointing above his head. 'Don't worry - he's safe, and sound asleep.' His eyes were glassy, his words somewhat slurred.
'For God's sake,' mumbled Tanner.
'What?' said Chevannes. 'What was that you said, Sergeant? Parlez haut.'
'Nothing, sir. I'll just get something for me and Hepworth to eat. I hear there's some stew about.'
'Out, oui. Heat up another tin. And have some wine.' While Tanner found two tins of stew and vegetables, Chevannes poured out a chipped tumbler of wine, spilling some. 'A toast, Sergeant,' he said, pushing the tumbler in Tanner's direction. 'A toast to surviving so far.'
Give me strength, thought Tanner. He scowled at the Frenchman, said, 'No bloody thanks to you,' then picked up the tumbler and drank, slamming the glass down only when he had finished it all.
'What did you say, Sergeant?' slurred Chevannes.
'You heard,' Tanner retorted. He went back to heating his tins of stew over the fire.
'How dare you?'
'How dare I what?' said Tanner, turning on him. 'If it wasn't for you, we wouldn't be sitting in this
God-forsaken hole. Now, get drunk if you want to but in a few hours' time we'll be off again and I'm not bloody well waiting for you.' Tanner grabbed the tins and stormed out of the room.
'Sergeant!' Chevannes called after him. 'Come back here!'
Tan
ner ignored him. He found Hepworth almost asleep on the stairs, then entered another room on the ground floor in which McAllister and Kershaw were already asleep. He lit a match and saw a half-burnt candle on a desk, which stood before a fireplace. Lighting it, he looked around, eating his stew as he did so. It was not warmed through, but he didn't care. It was food, and he'd eaten a lot worse. An empty whisky bottle stood on the table, while in the grate he found the remains of a number of papers. Tanner picked up the top of a sheet entitled, 'War Diary or Intelligence Summary', beside which had been scrawled in pencil, '148 Inf Bde.' What remained of the writing underneath had been scribbled out. So, this had been Brigadier Morgan's headquarters, he thought. Missed by hours.
Tanner lay down on the floor by the fireplace and, using his captured jacket as a pillow, closed his eyes and slept.
He was being shaken roughly. 'Sarge! Sarge!'
'What?' he said. He had been sleeping deeply and his eyes, reluctantly opening, strained in the dark to see who was standing over him.
'Sarge, it's me, Bell. You need to come. The corp sent me.'
Rubbing his eyes, Tanner got wearily to his feet, grabbed his rifle and stumbled outside. Sykes was by the gate. 'What is it?' Tanner asked.
'Someone came out the house, Sarge,' Sykes whispered. 'I couldn't see who it was, but they went into the barn. Whoever it is, they're still there.'
'All right,' he said. 'Let's go over and have a look.'
They crept towards the barn. The door on the ground was ajar and they paused beside it. Tanner's heart was hammering again; he hated creeping round buildings at any time of day but especially in the dark. 'Cover me,' he whispered, then pushed open the door and went in.
A sudden scratching made his heart leap and he flinched, then realized it was only rats or mice. He listened intently but could hear nothing. Sykes and Bell were now behind him. He felt in his trouser pocket for his matches, took out the box and lit one.
The Odin Mission Page 26