by Allan Jones
“Grab the grenades. Get ready… not far now,” Philippe shouted. He slowed the car and pulled in front of a gate into a field surrounded by a high dense hedge. “Get the gate! Quick!”
Andre ran out of the car and opened the gate, waited for the car to clear, then shut it again. Philippe pulled up close to the hedge and got out of the car, drawing his pistol. They moved away from the car into the darkness and lay flat on the ground. Andre passed Philippe a grenade and they waited. “We let them come close, give ’em all we got, then we split up. OK?” Philippe hissed. Andre nodded.
A few minutes passed and they heard the car coming, slowly now, lights ablaze. They heard it stop some way off, and then continue towards them. It stopped at the gate! They waited in silence, holding their breath, waiting for the car doors to open. There would be at least four of them, armed with machine guns, so they both knew they would have to be quick, throw the grenades and open fire immediately. The car waited, its engine throbbing; they could hear the occupants talking, deciding what to do. Finally, it crawled off and picked up speed.
They both let out a sigh of relief. Andre got up and walked cautiously to the gate and peered round it: he could see the lights receding rapidly in the distance. He watched it out of sight, then opened the gate. Philippe paused to let him in and they sped off. “Bloody hell! That was close,” Andre breathed.
They drove, without further incident, to the rendezvous, and parked the car facing the way they had come, next to Gaspar’s truck. Philippe volunteered to carry the corpse and heaved it over his shoulder. They crept silently through the trees, Andre in the lead, and presently he gave a low whistle. The reply came from up ahead and they hurried forward to where Lucille sat, her machine gun cradled in her arms. She stood up as Philippe dumped the body on the ground before her and she spat at it. “All went well?” she asked.
“Fine,” Andre told her, shooting a glance at Philippe, “no problems.” Philippe shrugged.
She looked anxiously at them. “Ah! My brave boys, well done! Now come, I’ll take you to the others, quick!” She led them through the trees to the ravine. She paused at the edge and pointed. “There! Go and help the others; we’re almost finished.”
They left her there to keep watch and scrambled down to where Paul and Amelia were laying the charges. Gaspar was on the opposite side of the ravine, readying firing positions, and Henri looked on attentively as Paul and Amelia worked, missing nothing. “Ah, there you are. Everything went well?”
They assured him it had. Henri smiled and clapped Andre on the back. “Good! Good! Now pay attention, see how it’s done! See what he does. Then help hide those wires, bury them, make sure there’s no trace. Then you two will be on that side. Gaspar’s got everything ready; when you’re finished, go to him, he’ll show you where he wants you. We are in for a long wait, so get some rest in turns. Wait for the explosions; don’t fire before that, then give them everything you’ve got. Keep your heads down, don’t expose yourselves. Wait till I give the ceasefire, then we check. Be careful, there may still be some left alive. Then we get out of here fast. Clear?”
“Clear,” Philippe answered, while Andre nodded, and they bent to their task, scooping out the loose earth and covering the tell-tale wires.
Soon they were ready. Philippe and Andre were in position and everyone else climbed back up the ravine to theirs. Paul turned to Henri and Gaspar.
“Well, this is it, my friends, we must leave you now. Take no chances, make sure you leave none alive. With any luck you’ll get them all before they can fire a shot. But remember, they’re well trained, well disciplined; expect anything, take no chances, watch out for each other, and, above all, show them no mercy. Then get the hell out of here. When you get back, Lucille should be waiting for you with ‘Bandit’. He will lead you, so listen to him. Above all, keep safe; meticulous planning, always be alert to danger. My friends, survive this war! France will have need of people like you to rebuild her, restore her and her honour.”
He held out his hand and they shook it in turn, their eyes bright. Amelia hugged each in turn and kissed them both fondly on the cheek. “Thank you, both, for everything; you saved me! I’ll never forget that. Without you I couldn’t have gone on. I’ll miss you.” Her eyes were wet with sentiment.
Henri was jovial. “And now we get our first kick at the Germans’ asses; that’s thanks to you, don’t you forget it! We’ll bloody their noses, we’ll make them scared to move far. We’ll be there to kill them if they dare! They’ll have to move about in groups, for fear we might pick them off in ones and twos. They’ve had it their own way for too long; now it’s our turn. Don’t worry about us, we’ve learned a lot from you already, and with the ‘Bandit’ leading us, who knows? Farewell, my friends, safe journey. And when it is all over, promise me you’ll come back, come stay with us for a while… we’ll drink all night! We’ll make love! We’ll eat like pigs and tell big lies of how mighty and brave we were! You come back, eh?”
Smiling, they agreed, and, after more backslapping and hugs, they went off to find Lucille. She drove the car, heading for the real pick-up point. Paul gave Amelia the remaining diamonds to put in her pack with her jewellery. He kept the hard-won films in his. Henri had been astonished when Paul and Amelia had presented him with their share of the diamonds. Paul had said they would help them after the war, to rebuild and restock the farm. Lucille had taken charge of them and had hidden them herself, refusing the men’s protests, keeping their whereabouts to herself. Amelia admired her astuteness, realising who really ruled the roost in their house.
CHAPTER 15
Henri was growing ever more impatient. They had waited all night, and now it was mid-morning. Surely they would come soon! As far as the Germans knew, the pick-up was to be mid-evening; they would have to come soon to ensure they had enough time to set their trap. Henri looked to his left to where Gaspar had positioned himself; it would be he that would get the first sighting. Gaspar caught his gaze and shook his head. Henri looked over the ravine to where he knew Philippe and Andre waited; he could see no sign of them, but he knew they were there, and probably as impatient as him.
He looked down into the road, checking once more that nothing was visible to give them away. Satisfied, he looked to the rag Amelia had tied to a branch; this was the marker: as soon as they came abreast of it, he would detonate the charges. He prayed that nothing would go wrong. Suppose the charges failed! They would have to rely on guns and grenades, and the Germans would have more chance of fighting back. Or they would have to abort! It was his decision: if the charges failed and he didn’t open fire, the others would follow his lead, whichever way. He regarded the firing mechanism beside him. He would have to handle it carefully, lest he was premature. He told himself to keep cool and not to get carried away by the tension of the moment. He was worried about Lucille. Suppose something had gone wrong! She could be dead; or worse, captured! He cursed himself for letting her go. One of the others should have gone! She should be here, by his side, where he could see her, where he could protect her.
He knew full well how devastated he would feel if anything happened to her. His palms were sweating and he dried them on his trousers.
Lucille was a skilled driver and they were making good time, nearing their destination. Paul had twice had to ask her to slow down; at this stage, when they were at the last lap, the last thing they needed was to attract attention. He felt the comforting weight of the sten cradled in his lap. He had ensured they all had carried out a final check on their readiness to fight, if necessary.
They rounded a bend. There was a car parked on the side of the road, its passenger door wide open. As they passed, they had a glimpse of a man pissing in the hedge as the other occupants of the car waited. Amelia swivelled round in time to see the man running back to the car, hastily pulling on his flies. Had they but known it, it was the same car Philippe and Andre had encountered earlier. Lucille put her foot to the floor; they had a small start. “We’ll h
ave to take them on,” Paul shouted.
“Exercise Four, remember,” Amelia replied.
Paul nodded. “Lucille, when I tap your shoulder, pull up as quick as you can to let us out, stop fifty yards further, leave the car and wait nearby. If things go wrong, get out of here, run for it. You’ve got your sten!”Lucille nodded and held the wheel tighter.
The pursuing car was picking up speed, though it was still a considerable distance behind. Paul waited, then flashed a quick glance at Amelia and nodded her a warning, before tapping Lucille. She hit the brakes and the tyres squealed as the car slowed to almost walking pace. Paul and Amelia baled out and rolled to either side of the road as Lucille roared off again. They each got up on one knee and aimed the guns, setting up a crossfire.
The car roared towards them; at twenty yards range they fired, shattering the windscreen and pumping a hail of bullets into the front of the car. It careered past them as they continued to fire, then it slewed off the road to the left and came to a crashing halt against a tree. Paul hared after it, Amelia not far behind.
She covered him as he drew near. Steam was pouring from the radiator, obscuring vision. Paul was close and fired another burst through the rear window. He waited a few seconds, then got close enough to see in. The four occupants were all dead! He beckoned Amelia closer as he bent in and examined the dash: no R/T equipment! Satisfied, he signalled and they both pelted up the road, calling for Lucille as they drew near, lest she should open fire on them in the heat of the moment. The car was there, its driver’s door wide open. As they neared, Lucille emerged from the ditch nearby and ran with them, her sten slung on her shoulder. They got in simultaneously and Lucille gunned the engine and they roared off.
They took the time to catch their breath, the adrenalin still pumping through them. “You all right, not hurt?” Lucille called over her shoulder.
“We’re fine,” Amelia shouted back, as she and Paul reloaded their guns.
“You can’t go back this way!” Paul shouted.
“Wasn’t going to; the quickest way back isn’t this way. I’ll be fine,” Lucille informed them.
“And you’ll have ‘Bandit’ with you!”
“Yes, so don’t worry about me. Start getting ready, it’s not far now.”
“You won’t have to ditch the car; they didn’t have a radio in their car,” Paul informed her.
Amelia and Paul busied themselves slinging on their packs and presently Lucille drove the car up a steep, dusty track and stopped the car at the edge of a field, pointing it back down the lane for a quick retreat if necessary. Paul got out first and listened intently before beckoning them out to join him. All was quiet and still. “Best say our goodbyes now,” Amelia whispered, and went to Lucille and gave her a hug. “Thank you, Lucille, thanks for everything. Now you take care now, you keep the boys in line, eh?”
“I will,” Lucille said, releasing her and turning to Paul, who also hugged her tightly and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Now, to business!” Lucille exclaimed.
She helped them to arrange the “L”-shaped signal they would need to attract the plane. They separated with their flashlights and began the tense wait. Now they were at their most vulnerable and they felt it. Anything could go wrong: the plane could miss the field entirely, or the pilot lose his nerve or be over-suspicious. They could make a mistake with the signal; the least thing seeming wrong to him would make the pilot abort and go home.
They strained their ears against the sounds of the night: the rustle of leaves, the hooting of an owl, a dog barking a long way in the distance. Otherwise, the silence was threatening! Every second they expected a shout of challenge, blinding spotlights, rifles being cocked and trained on them.
Then, against hope, they heard it in the distance as it grew louder, the unmistakable drone of an approaching aircraft. They straightened up and readied their torches. The next few minutes were a blur. The aircraft was suddenly on them, roaring out of nowhere. It banked and came down in a ridiculously short landing space. As it taxied for the return take-off, Paul and Amelia ran to it.
The door opened and a figure threw out a pack and descended the ladder. As Amelia flew up the ladder, Paul got the agent’s attention and pointed to where Lucille waited with the car. They shook hands hastily and the agent picked up the pack and scurried off. At the top of the ladder, Paul turned. Lucille was just getting into the car and she saw him and threw him a wave. He waved back ,then clambered into the small space beside Amelia.
The pilot wasted no time and they were hurled back into their seats with the force of the take-off. It was hard to breathe as they ascended steeply, then the pilot levelled off and they streaked off to the north-west. The pilot brought them down under the enemy’s radar; once clear of the coast he would climb for the clouds, if there were any, for the rest of the trip.
Amelia was shaking, whether from fear or relief she couldn’t tell. Paul sensed it and took her hand. They couldn’t see each other in the dark; only the faint outline of the pilot’s head was visible. It didn’t matter, they were together and going home!
* * * *
Henri caught a movement from the corner of his eyes. Gaspar was waving his arm! His eyes flitted over the ravine and an answering arm waved back. They were coming! He looked over at Gaspar, who had readied his sten and was aiming into the ravine.
Carefully, he picked up the firing switch − one turn to the left was all it took − and peered to the bend in the track from where he would get his first sight. His ears strained for the first sound as his heart beat faster and his breath quickened. Whether it was fear or excitement, he couldn’t tell, but he knew he was ready. He wriggled his body closer into the ground and waited, peering round the covering rock at the rag flapping idly in the light breeze.
Then he caught the sound as the staff car rounded the bend, followed by a canvas-sided truck, both moving slowly and cautiously. Henri took a deep breath and concentrated, counting the seconds; each seemed stretched into an eternity as the tableau unfolded in an eerie slow motion. As the car drew nearer and nearer. Henri’s hands were shaking: one held the casing, the other hovering above the switch, and he was afraid to touch it till he had to.
Then the nose of the car reached the rag. Henri’s hand flew to the switch and turned it. There was a loud “crump” sound, followed almost simultaneously by another. The car flew into the air and landed with a crash on its side, then exploded into flames as its fuel tank ruptured. Smoke and dust obscured sight as Henri dropped the trigger and picked up his sten and opened fire. The others were already raining bullets at the lorry, peppering the canvas, shredding it! Henri concentrated on the cab ,pouring lead through the shattered windscreen.
The Germans were caught in a lethal crossfire: from in front, behind and to each side came the hot, searching bullets. None of them had a chance; they died before they knew what was happening, the bullets contorting their bodies in a macabre dance of death. Then the lorry caught fire: flames slithered from beneath it and leaped up the shredded canvas sides.
They poured fire into it for a full minute more, hastily reloading, till Henri roared for a ceasefire. His ears were ringing from the din as he searched for the slightest movement from below. He signalled and kept his eyes focussed below as Philippe and Andre emerged from their positions and scrambled down the bank. Gaspar was also covering them as they ran to the lorry, ignoring the blazing car. Andre stood back, his gun at the ready, as Philippe approached the back of the burning truck, tossed in a grenade and threw himself flat. A couple of seconds later it exploded, sending the flames yards outward. All of them were still as Philippe got up and went closer till he could see.
It was carnage! Bodies and bits of bodies filled the truck, and blood was everywhere on the mangled, smoking heap of dead Germans. Philippe gave the thumbs-up and he and Andre clambered up to where Gaspar had joined Henri.
They both covered the scene with their guns below till the others were safe beside them.
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p; “They’re all dead!” Philippe said breathlessly.
“You’re sure?” Gaspar asked.
“Sure,” Philippe replied grimly.
“Quick!” Henri shouted. “We go!”
Philippe and Andre hared off through the trees, Gaspar raced back to his position to clear up, as Henri cut the detonator trigger from its wire and threw it into the satchel, along with the unused grenades and empty magazines. Then they hefted up Sims’ body by the arms and legs and, after a few swings for momentum, they tossed it into the ravine, where it landed with an audible “slap” into a pool of burning petrol and caught alight in seconds.
After a final look, they ran for the van, which Philippe had already started, Andre in front beside him. They threw themselves in the back and had barely time to close the doors before the van roared off down the bumpy track. They were thrown around in the back, struggling to find something to hold on to, till Henri yelled: “Philippe, slow down! You’ll kill us all, you mad bastard!”
Philippe eased his foot off the accelerator, touched the brakes and the chaos in the back eased. Henri managed to sit and peered anxiously out of the back, expecting hot pursuit at any time, as Gaspar tidied up the weaponry, tightening the straps that held the big canvas bags together. No pursuit came as they descended the hill and reached the small road. Philippe drove slower and more carefully and the tension relaxed a little and they allowed themselves smiles and sighs of relief, the adrenalin still pumping through their veins.
The drive took a nail-biting hour. They saw no-one else on the way till, finally, Philippe dropped Henri and Gaspar off at the track which led to the house. He and Andre then drove off to put the weapons back in the cache, after which they would return the van, then make themselves scarce and lie low for a while.
Gaspar and Henri trudged up the track, suddenly weary after the tension and the excitement, neither speaking. They came within sight of the house and were overjoyed to see Lucille leaning at the open door. They quickened their pace. “Ah! My brave warriors return,” she cried, then asked, “No one hurt? Philippe and Andre?”