"It is always handy when we are in France. It confuses the enemy."
As we left Dad said, "Lock the door, Beattie, and don't open it unless you know who it is. Even if they steal the car you stay in here. There is less than a gallon in the tank. Even if they take the car they won't get far."
She nodded and I could see fear on her face, "I will Bill. You two be careful."
"We will be."
As we headed down the lane I said, "A bit of a long shot this isn't it Dad? I mean they could be anywhere."
"They could but ask yourself this. If you were in a country you did not know where would you hide out?" He paused, "Where did you hide out?"
I nodded, "In a wood."
"Right. I did it when we were shot down. You have shelter. There is normally water and if you know what you are doing then you have food. In addition you can hide and most people can't read signs. You can."
I nodded as I thought about the task ahead. "Their footwear will be different. The ground has been muddy. Their prints will look different from ours."
"And they will smell different. You know when you are in France with your eyes closed. This may be a wild goose chase but we will soon find out. The moment we see tracks we will know if they are prisoners or locals."
The eight members of the Home Guard soon caught up with us. They all had shotguns. That was the weapon of choice in the countryside. All of them deferred to Dad. Not only was he a senior officer he was the senior man in the area.
"Right Group Captain how do we do this?"
"It is like beating for animals." I smiled. He used a simile they would all understand. I saw them nodding. "Keep the man next to you in plain sight and move slowly. Look for signs that men have been passing through; broken branches, cigarette stubs, that sort of thing." I saw enlightenment dawn. They were all pipe smokers. Most countrymen here could get a pipe going and it would happily burn until the tobacco was all gone. Cigarettes were too much work. He pointed to me, "Tom here will go along the path. He has hunted men before."
I nodded but I remembered that the last time I had hunted a man, a rogue Commando, that Commando had died and one of my men had been wounded. I would need to ensure that did not happen again. We wanted no deaths.
We moved slowly and meticulously. These eight knew the land and they moved not only through it but with it. We had had to train my Commandos to do that. These were born with that skill. We were lucky that the woods had been copsed and cleared lately. There were not as many places to hide as there would have been in high summer. I found the first sign a mile into the woods. There was a bit of a clearing. I spied the cigarette stub. Stopping, I picked it up and found that the saliva was still wet on the end. Searching the ground I saw something I had last seen close to Dieppe, the print of a German boot. I held up my hand and pointed down. Dad and the others nodded. I heard the clicks as broken shotguns were readied.
Now that I had found one track I found others. I frowned. There was a fourth set of prints amongst the German boots and it was a smooth print. Someone with hob nailed boots was ahead of us and they were with the prisoners of war. I began to move more quickly for the track was clear. As I was on the path I was able to move quicker than the others and I became the tip of an arrow.
Suddenly the silence of the wood was shattered by a shout. We all stopped and listened. There were voices ahead. Dad waved us forward. The voices were directly ahead and suggested that they were on the path. We edged closer but I was aware that those to my right were now level with me. I dared not shout for fear of giving away our presence.
I heard the German accent and knew that these were the men we sought, "Do not play games with me or I will slit your throat. You are leading us in circles. How do we get out of this infernal woods?"
"This is the way sir! Honest to God I am telling you the truth!"
It was young Walter. I recognised his voice. His Dad heard it too and he could not contain himself. "Walter!"
I raced forward for the game was up. They knew we were close. As we blundered towards the voices I spied the four of them. Walter had a bloody nose and a German had a knife to his throat. The other two also had knives and were sheltering behind the hostage as well. As I approached I saw that the knives were kitchen carving knives. They were no less deadly for that. In the countryside the men took pride in carefully sharpened knives. One false move would result in young Walter dying. Dad and I stopped ten yards from them. The Germans were standing close to the largest oak tree in the woods. It even had acorns left on it.
"One more move and I kill the boy!"
Albert shouted, "Get your hands off my boy you murdering Hun!"
"Albert, stop!"
My Dad's voice was authoritative and Albert obeyed. We were a half circle around them. The German, I guessed he was an officer or NCO shouted, "Lay down your weapons and we will let your friend go."
Dad said, "That is not going to happen. You are outnumbered and you are surrounded. We have shotguns. Surrender now!"
The German laughed, "You think I am a fool. You cannot use shotguns for you would kill the boy and I am guessing that is his father. Do as I say!" He raised his voice at the end. Then I heard him say, out of the side of his mouth, in German, "When they drop their weapons, Stephan, grab them!"
I laid down my own shotgun, taking a step forward as I did so and then said, in German, "There you can have my gun." I whipped out my Luger and pointed it at them, "If you think you can reach it before I empty this gun into you."
The German's eyes narrowed. "That does not change things, Englishman. I will kill him unless you drop your weapons."
I nodded, "What is your name?"
"Why?"
"I would like to know before I shoot you."
"Captain Heinrich Boehm."
I smiled, "Good, Heinrich now let me tell you something. I am a Commando. I took this Luger from a German I killed. I have killed many Germans with this, with my Tommy gun, with grenades and with my knife. I know how to kill. You think that because you hide behind Walter here you are safe." I shook my head. "I can see you and I can kill you. You see that acorn, just above your head?" The acorn was just six inches above his field cap. He flicked his eyes up and nodded. I pulled the trigger. In the silent woods the shot sounded like a cannon. To be fair to the German he did not flinch although his companions dropped to the ground. He glanced up and the acorn had gone.
"I do not want to kill you but you are not leaving this wood alive if you harm the boy. I have eight bullets left and you know what a nine millimetre parabellum can do to you don't you, Heinrich? I bet you have a gun just such as this. At this range the bullet would punch a hole in you big enough for my fist." I was not certain that was true but he had doubts in his eyes. He shifted his head a little. I laughed, "Pathetic, Heinrich! I'll tell you what; how about I shoot you in your right elbow? You won't be able to cut his throat and you don't need your right arm do you? Yes, I think that is what I will do. Now hold still..."
The knife was dropped. The other two followed suit. The Home Guard ran towards them; their shotguns levelled. Albert grabbed Walter. Heinrich stared at me, hate filled his eyes. Dad patted me on the back. "Remind me never to play poker with you, son. That was a good shot."
I said nothing. Walter had reminded me of young Peter Groves when he had first joined up. I had not wanted him to die but I had been helpless to prevent it. I had saved Walter and it felt good. We marched them out of the wood. Each German had two men behind them with cocked shotguns pressed into their backs. Dad and I flanked the officer. We tried to engage him in conversation but his grim eyes faced forward all the way to the edge of the woods and his mouth was drawn into a tight slit.
"Joe, run ahead to my house and use my telephone. Ask the regulars to meet us in the village eh?" Joe ran off.
Once we reached the lane people came out of their cottages to watch us. Some followed us. We were like the Pied Piper of Hamlin. We could do nothing to dissuade them. They bombarded the
Home Guard with questions.
Joe caught up with us a mile from the village, "They are on their way. The Major in charge said, 'well done'. " He chuckled, "I think he said it through gritted teeth though, Group Captain. The Home Guard did what a bunch of regulars couldn't." I heard the pride in his voice. The incident would do wonders for morale.
By the time we reached the village green there were forty people following us. Inevitably one who had not been on the hunt shouted, "We should string the bastards up. They killed a young lad and almost killed another!"
The crowd began to murmur angrily. I noticed that the Home Guard stood protectively around us. Dad emptied two barrels into the sky. It deafened and silenced at the same time. His voice was remarkably quiet when he spoke but it had enough authority to cow them all. "We are Englishmen! We are not a bunch of mindless savages! We have laws in this country and you will obey them. Now you have had your excitement for the day. Disperse and go home!" No one moved. He raised his voice, just a fraction, "That is an order!"
They moved, slowly at first but eventually, in twos and threes they returned to their homes..
We stood in silence and I said, in German, "You see what happens when you forget you are not on the front line? I do not blame you for escaping but I do blame you for killing a civilian. You are protected by the Geneva Convention. So are civilians." He did not answer me but just glared. I had seen his like before. On the retreat someone just like him had shot some wounded soldiers not far from Dunkirk.
Just then we heard the lorry as it approached. A young Lieutenant jumped out. He had a grin on his face, "I say chaps, well done. We'll take it from here."
We watched the prisoners board the lorry and were then whisked away. Dad and I turned to walk back to the cottage. Albert said, "Where are you two gentlemen going? We have drinks to buy."
"We ought to get home, Mrs Harsker is waiting for us."
Joe shook his head, "No she isn't sir, she said she would drive down and pick you up. I said we would be in the pub."
I looked at Dad and he shrugged. We had little choice, it seemed. We followed them into the 'George'. Walter brought me my pint over, "Thank you for what you did Lieutenant Harsker. I thought my time had come."
"You are welcome. How did they get you?"
"I was heading for Stanhow and I cut across a field. They stepped out of nowhere and grabbed me. I couldn't do nowt, sir."
"Don't you berate yourself, Walter. They are soldiers and they were desperate."
"They wouldn't have got you though sir, would they?"
"That is the difference, Walter, I have been trained."
"Would you have killed him if he hadn't surrendered? Would you have been able to hit him?"
"Yes, Walter. That is part of being a Commando."
"Then I want to be a Commando. I want to kill Germans." He looked at me, "You know sir, if they hadn't got me they might have got Ann and her mother. We can't have that."
"Well, Walter, when you do join up you will find that you do not have much choice in who you fight or where you fight but one thing is certain it is better to fight than to give up."
"Aye sir."
Albert had just paid for the round and he came over to me. He pumped my hand as though drawing water, "Thank you sir. That was a cracking shot! I owe you more than I can ever repay. If you ever need anything..."
"Just you and the Home Guard to keep doing what you are doing. Watch our home, everyone's home. It is reassuring, when I am fighting in foreign fields to know that this part of England is safe."
"Aye, we'll do that, won't we lads?"
There was a huge cheer.
I was grateful when Mum popped her head through the door. I had had my quota of beer! She was inundated with comments and praise about what a fine husband and son she had.
As we sped down the lane she said, "Joe told me what you did, son. That was quick thinking."
Dad nodded, "It was the right thing to do. I don't think I was ever prouder of you, Tom. I know that you have done braver stuff." He laughed, "I have seen you do braver things but today you weren't in uniform and yet you handled the situation far better than I could have."
"I don't believe that for an instant, Dad."
"No Tom, I knew it when we were in Africa. You are used to these quick decisions. Your brain and your reactions are honed for danger. My decisions are reflective. I have reports, maps, charts and data. I have young officers who offer advice. You think on your feet and today it showed." He nodded to Mum, "We have a son we can be proud of, Beattie."
She shook her head, "I didn't need today to tell me that. I am always proud of him but, after today, I will be even more fearful. This war can't end soon enough for me."
Chapter 14
The week long leave sped by and it did not seem five minutes before I was on a train and heading back to Falmouth. My interlude from the war was ending. The journey home through a windy autumnal England matched my sombre mood.
As usual I was the first one back. I always liked to be there before my section. I dropped my bag off at Mrs Bailey's, along with my ration book. I handed her a hessian sack. "Here you are Mrs Bailey, four bunnies. I shot them yesterday. They are skinned and cleaned. There was no heating on the train so they should be fine."
"Thank you very much Lieutenant Harsker. I will save that little bit of shin I bought for tomorrow. The lads will enjoy this."
I reached into my kit bag and handed her a couple of bottles. "This is last year's elderberry wine. Mum sent them down. They are a bit raw for drinking but they might add a punch to the stew."
She beamed as though it was a chateau bottled Bordeaux. "Oh you thank your mother. It will be a feast fit for a king."
I changed into my uniform and jogged up to the camp. The leisurely walks with Dad were not enough to keep up my fitness levels. I needed to work hard again and rid myself of the wonderful excesses of Mum's cooking and Dad's wine and whisky. As I approached the camp I could hear the buzz. The Brigade was back. As I walked through the barrier, flashing my pass to the sentry, I saw Gordy Barker, my former corporal.
"Now then sir. Good leave?"
"The best, Gordy. How are things here?"
"We are still trying to whip the new lads into shape. You know what they are like, all fingers and thumbs. Still we are getting there." He frowned, "Dieppe was a bugger, sir."
"I know, still at least Number Four achieved their objective."
"That we did sir but for all the good it did I am not sure."
"We have to think of the bigger picture. I am sure that the powers that be know what they are doing." After speaking with my Dad I knew that there were some clever people planning but some of those in the War Office were still stuck in the trenches.
"Sorry to hear about young Groves, sir. He was a good lad." He shook his head, "You seem to draw all the hard missions don't you, sir?"
I laughed, "I'll bet you were glad to get your own section eh Gordy?"
"Oh no sir, I would give up the stripes in a heartbeat if I could serve with you again."
His voice told me that he meant it. "You know you can never go back Gordy. The past always looks better from the present."
"I suppose you are right. Well I had better get back to the lads. They need watching all the time. Not like the old days."
"Gordy!"
He laughed, "You are right, sir. Look ahead, not back."
Once in the office we all used when in camp I checked to see if there was anything new. There was not although I noticed that all leave had been cancelled. I wonder what that meant. Sergeant Major Dean came in. He handed me a sheet of paper. "Your new Commandos sir."
"Commandos?"
"Yes sir, two of them."
"To replace Groves?"
"I think, sir, they are taking Lance Sergeant Gowland off you as well, sir." I stared at him. "I am just saying, sir and if Major Foster asks then you didn't hear it from me. I just thought you ought to know."
I did not like
this. We were a team. Harry and George worked well together as Lance Sergeant and Corporal. They were old friends. Ken Shepherd had fitted in well but we had been lucky. "Why do they have to change things, Reg? If it is not broken then why fix it? Why break up a good tram?"
He chuckled as he handed me a mug of tea, "You are a victim of your own success. Harry is sergeant material isn't he, sir?"
"Well of course but..."
"And you wouldn't want to stand in his way."
"Of course not. Has he said he wants promotion?"
"Not to me sir but other sections need someone like him to lead them. Barker is one of the top sergeants we have. You trained him and were unhappy when you lost him. Poulson, well, he is as a good a Commando as you can get. We need NCOs who can lead."
"You mean I will be losing Polly too?"
"Perhaps, sir. It isn't for me to say. You had best ask Major Foster." I nodded, "Only if you could not let him know it was me as set you off sir, I would appreciate it."
"Of course, Reg and thank you. I didn't mean to bite your head off."
"You didn't, sir. Troop Sergeant Major's need thick skins, sir."
I knocked on Major Foster's door, "Ah Tom come in. I wanted to see you. Take a seat." I sat, "Good leave?"
I nodded, "Actually it was most exciting." I told him about the prisoners of war.
He shook his head, "And there was me thinking you were having an easy time of it."
"Sir, how come I have two new recruits? I only lost Groves."
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I know, Tom. The thing is we need good sergeants. I am promoting Gowland. We are going to make Lowe into Lance Sergeant. We have a corporal coming from Number 1 Commando."
I became suspicious, "Number 1 Commando? Why would someone transfer Brigades and if he is so good why not stay in Number 1 and get promoted?"
The Major buried his face in the report. He was covering himself. "It seems he didn't get on with his officer. There was some sort of bust up and, well, in the interests of the service it was decided to move Brigades. His senior officer really rates him. He was sorry to lose him."
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