‘What?’ snarled Tanner. ‘What’s going on?’ He saw Alopex lower his knife.
‘We are finished here,’ the kapitan muttered, ‘for now.’ He dabbed at his eye again, then put his knife away. Tanner lowered his bayonet, dropped the rock he was clasping and put his hand to his head, reaching to the tree for support. Alopex and his men pushed past, scrambled over the rocks and went back towards the cave.
‘Are you all right?’ Sykes said. ‘I’m sorry – I couldn’t help you much.’
‘You got him off me to start with. Bastard might really have killed me if it weren’t for that.’ He breathed out heavily. ‘Bloody hell. That hurt.’ He sheathed his bayonet and slumped to the ground.
‘I wonder what the fuss is about,’ said Sykes, looking towards the cave.
‘Christ knows,’ said Tanner. ‘But I need a beadie.’ He felt for his cigarettes, took one out and lit it.
Suddenly they heard a guttural roar of pain and anguish from the cave.
‘That don’t sound good,’ said Sykes.
Tanner eased himself back to his feet, gasping with pain as he did so. ‘No, Stan. Come on, we’d better see what’s going on.’
Clambering back round the rocky spur to the cave, pain shooting through Tanner with every step, they saw Alopex clutching his head, rocking back and forth, then striding away from the others, his face turned to the sky. Alarm now struck Tanner. Alexis, he thought. He hoped it was not so.
‘Christ, what happened to you?’ said Peploe, as he and Vaughan hurried over.
‘Nothing, sir. What’s going on?’
‘It’s bad, I’m afraid,’ said Vaughan. ‘The Germans have torched Sarhos and taken away Alopex’s wife, son and sister.’
Tanner clutched his head. ‘Let me think,’ he said, to himself as much as to anyone else. He drew on his cigarette, then flicked the butt away. ‘Did they take anyone else or only those three?’
‘Only those three. The rest they left locked in the church.’
‘Then they’ll be safe,’ he said. ‘They’re trying to get Alopex out of the mountains. Let me talk to him.’ He turned, but Peploe caught him by his shoulder.
‘Jack, wait.’ Tanner stopped and faced him. ‘You and Alopex – you’ve just been fighting again?’
Tanner nodded. ‘He came at me, sir. I’ve been trying to keep out of his way.’
‘Jack, that’s not good enough. This has to stop. Apologise to him.’
‘Sir,’ said Tanner. ‘I’ve nothing to apologise for.’
‘Tanner,’ said Vaughan, ‘that might be so, but this is Alopex’s country – Alopex’s land. You are a problem to him, because for him to back down would mean him losing face. That is more damaging to him than to you. We need him – we need these kapitans to help continue the fight.’
‘Jack, I’m sorry. I know you have your pride, but I want you to end this now. Apologise to Alopex. That’s an order.’
Tanner looked away, then wiped the blood from his face. ‘An order?’
‘Yes.’
Tanner swallowed, sighed and nodded. Satanas was now with Alopex, an avuncular arm around the younger kapitan’s shoulder.
‘Alopex,’ said Tanner, approaching him.
Alopex turned, a look of pure hatred in his eyes.
‘I—’ He stopped, paused, briefly closed his eyes, then said, ‘I apologize. I offended you, and I’m sorry. And I’m also very sorry to hear of your loss.’ Alopex stared at him, as though not comprehending what he was hearing. Slowly Tanner held out his hand.
‘Alopex,’ Satanas said. ‘Enough of this. Take his hand.’
Silently Alopex did so.
Tanner smiled, aware of a weight lifting from his shoulders. ‘I want to say something to you,’ he said. ‘Your wife and son and Alexis, they’ll be safe.’
‘They will kill them,’ murmured Alopex.
‘No – no, they won’t. Think about it. Why have they only taken those three?’
Alopex looked at him blankly.
‘Because they’re trying to lure you out of the mountains. It’s you they’re after – a kapitan, a resistance leader.’
‘But how do they know of me?’
‘I don’t know – someone must have talked. Maybe they’ve rounded up people in Heraklion, tortured them. It could have been anyone, but they know. Why else would they go to your village and take your family?’
Satanas spoke to Alopex. ‘I think you are right,’ he then said to Tanner.
‘It’s a trap,’ said Tanner. ‘They’ll be expecting you to attack in force, I’m sure. But that’s not the way. Let us help you. We’ll get them back for you.’
‘But how?’
Tanner shrugged. ‘Someone will know where they are. Do you still have people inside the town?’
‘Of course.’
‘Then we can find out where they are. We’ll watch and wait and then we’ll make a plan and rescue them. If we work together, we can do this.’
Alopex nodded. ‘Yes, we must try.’ He laid a hand on Tanner’s shoulder. ‘I accept your apology. We will work together. Our feud – it is over.’
‘We will get them back.’
Alopex buried his head in his hands.
Tanner left him and walked towards the mouth of the cave, the enormity of what he had pledged now registering. He’d said it not for Alopex, but for Alexis and, he realized, because of his own misplaced sense of pride. Not only did they have to discover the prisoners’ whereabouts, they had to defy the rapidly massing German troops now flooding into Heraklion, then get Alopex’s family out and safely up into the mountains. It was, Tanner knew, with a rapidly sinking heart, a very tall order indeed.
18
Some forty miles away as the crow flew, but many more by foot, the main British evacuation was still under way. More than six thousand troops had been lifted from the tiny southern port of Sfakia on the night of 29 May. German mountain troops had dogged their retreat all the way, but as the exhausted troops of Creforce neared the coast at last, the landscape had helped them. The mountain passes had descended into a high plateau of lush meadows and groves, but from this plain ran a narrow, deep and craggy ravine, which was the only real passage to the coast and easy to defend; the Imbros Gorge had bought precious time for the mass of Creforce now waiting to be picked up on the shore beyond.
At the end of the gorge the road on which the men had been travelling finally reached a dead end. From high on a rocky headland overlooking the sea there was only one way down to Sfakia and that was by a narrow path. The signs of retreat were everywhere: trucks, cars, even a few light tanks lay abandoned, their engines deliberately wrecked. Everything too difficult or heavy to be carried down to the port lay scattered and discarded.
All the way from the bluff to the sea, men huddled in the rocks, waiting and praying that they might have a chance to leave. Major General Freyberg had made his way through the mass after he and most of his staff had finally left their cave headquarters beneath the bluff that evening, 30 May. Young men who, just ten days earlier, had looked fit, confident and brimming with youthful determination, were now haggard, dirty and unshaven, their uniforms torn and filthy. They were hungry and, above all, thirsty – damn it, who wasn’t in this heat? – but there was nothing he could do for them. Before leaving, he had sent one last signal to General Wavell, urging him to do all that was possible to send more ships, but he knew that, while he would shortly be leaving the island, many of his gallant men would not. They had fought their hardest, lost friends and comrades and now faced an uncertain future as prisoners of war.
Not for the first time since the battle had begun, Freyberg wished he could have been a mere company commander once more, with the decisions of high command left to someone else. He hated leaving his men like this, cutting and running before so many others. To make matters worse, he had seen their faces in the evening dusk. Some had wished him well, but most had just stared at him, stony, silent expressions that had cut him more painfully than
any sword or bullet.
Eventually they had reached the quayside, and soon after, a faint hum had been heard that had rapidly grown until, out of the sky, two Sunderland flying boats had appeared. Gracefully swooping down to the calm, gently lapping sea, they had landed a short way from the shore, waiting patiently while Freyberg and his staff clambered down into little wooden dinghies and were rowed towards them. Pulling alongside the giant grey beast, Freyberg could hear the four radial engines ticking and clicking as they cooled. There was a reassuring smell of fuel and oil, as a door opened beneath the high cockpit and he made the awkward step from the boat into the Sunderland.
And then, soon after, with the first Sunderland full of passengers, the engines began to turn and then roar, shaking the whole aircraft. Slowly at first, then gathering speed, the seaplane sped out across the water, buffeted as it skimmed over the surface, until suddenly the shaking lessened and it was climbing away. Freyberg looked out of his window and, in the last vestiges of light, saw Crete, a long, dark outline, like a sleeping giant, and a place of gentle, magnificent beauty rather than the scene of so much bitter and costly fighting.
Freyberg rubbed his eyes. He had been charged with defending Crete and yet he had failed, leading his island garrison to another bitter defeat. It was a burden he would have to live with.
As the hungry Rangers and Cretan andartes ate their meal of roast mutton and bread, they were unaware that the commander of Creforce was at that very moment flying out across the sea towards Alexandria, or that the remnants of Creforce were still evacuating from Sfakia.
As it was, the mood at the cave was sombre. Several of the guerrillas were from the same village as Alopex. As for the kapitan, he kept apart from his men. Alopex was a solitary figure that night, and both Satanas and his men let him be. Tanner, too, was not much in the mood for talking. The cuts to his face hurt, while his head throbbed painfully. He had said nothing to Peploe about his offer to Alopex – not yet. It could wait. He needed to think. Think and rest.
He settled down near the cave’s entrance. Up in the sky, stars twinkled benignly. The air was cool and still; there was no sound of cicadas in the mountains. Near the back of the cave, he heard Liddell calling out. The man had developed a fever. That worried Tanner too. He had not saved the stupid idiot just for him to go and die in some mountain cave. But Liddell was being tended by Woodman and Bonner. He’s not my concern now, Tanner told himself. Go to sleep.
The other Rangers had let Tanner be in the same way that the andartes had recognized Alopex needed to be alone. Sykes had ensured that no one bothered the CSM; he had known Tanner long enough now to understand when his friend was not feeling sociable. Nonetheless, he also saw that the others were desperate to know what had happened between their CSM and the Cretan kapitan.
‘So there he was,’ said Sykes, in a low voice, as a number of the Rangers sat around a softly burning fire, ‘with his bayonet in one hand and a sodding great rock in the other. And a few yards away there’s Alopex with this gleaming dagger. Both men had already knocked ten rounds out of each other. Alopex had got blood running down his face and so had the CSM. They were quite a sight, I can tell you.’
He paused to light a cigarette, which he cupped between his finger and thumb.
‘And then what?’ said Hepworth.
‘Well, then that nipper comes running up the track shouting about what’s happened down below.’
‘So they stop fighting?’ said Mercer.
‘Yes – that was it. But I reckon the CSM had the trump hand. He’d have flung that rock and had him. Could have been curtains for old Alopex.’
‘Tanner’s a hard bastard,’ grinned McAllister. ‘Won’t back down on anything.’
‘But ’e ’as, Mac. He made his peace with Alopex.’
‘So we’re all mates again, then, Sarge?’ said Hepworth.
‘For the moment. But you know what these Cretans are like. Sensitive buggers. Don’t take much to get them worked up about something or other.’
They were quiet for a moment. Then Mercer said, ‘D’you think we’ll ever get off this place, Sarge?’
‘Course we will,’ said Sykes, the tip of his cigarette glowing. ‘We might need a bit of help finding some kind of boat but we’ll be all right. You’ll see. At any rate, we’re safe enough for the moment.’
‘I wonder whether the others made it,’ said Hepworth.
‘I hope the Eyeties didn’t get them,’ said McAllister. ‘Bastard Eyeties. Always jumping on Jerry’s bandwagon. Typical of them to bloody well turn up once the island’s almost secure.’
‘Well, I think we made the right choice, boys,’ said Sykes. ‘I mean, I really hope they made it but, let’s face it, that old boat was knackered, wasn’t it, Eyeties or no Eyeties?’
‘But what now, Sarge?’ said Mercer. ‘Are we going to stay here or do we have to keep fighting Jerry?’
‘You know what, mate?’ said Sykes. ‘I don’t think you should worry your pretty little head about that tonight. Let’s get some kip and see what tomorrow brings, hey?’
Sykes opened his eyes and saw Tanner a short distance away from the mouth of the cave, gazing out over the mountains. The air was fresh and cool, a lingering smell of woodsmoke on his clothes mixing with the sharper scent of sage and brushwood. Most of the other men were still asleep, although a couple of andartes were keeping watch, sitting on rocks, leaning on their rifles. Of Alopex there was no sign.
Sykes yawned, then got up and quietly stepped over the rocky ground to join Tanner, who turned as he approached. He had washed the blood from his face, but there was bruising around his right eye and on his left cheek. The cut, however, looked as though it would heal well: already, a dark mass of blood had congealed into a thick scab.
‘All right, Stan?’ said Tanner.
‘Fine, ta. Better for a good kip, I can tell you. The old boat race don’t look too bad, all things considered, Jack.’
‘I’ve had worse.’ Tanner took a gulp of water from his bottle, then passed it to Sykes. ‘Could kill a mug of char, couldn’t you?’
‘I don’t even want to think about it.’ He drank. Then, passing back the water bottle, he said, ‘I wonder how Mr Liddell is this morning?’
‘He’s not feverish any more,’ said Tanner. ‘I checked.’
‘Then he’s through the worst.’
‘Should be.’
‘I hope he’s grateful,’ said Sykes. ‘You saved his life, Jack.’
‘I didn’t do it for him. I did it for his father. Something I owed him. In any case, I’m hardly going to sit back and let the poor bastard drown, am I?’
‘Well, you did the right thing.’ Sykes sniffed. ‘So what’s the plan?’
‘Eventually to get off the island and back to Alex.’
‘Eventually. But first?’
Tanner faced him. ‘You don’t need to come, Stan. None of you do, but we owe it to these men to help them get the women out of Heraklion. Damn it, we owe it to ourselves. Cutting and running like that – it was a disgrace, Stan, a bloody disgrace. I’ll go in on my own if I have to.’
Sykes took his comb from his battle-blouse pocket and ran it through his hair. ‘You’re not going anywhere without me. They’ve got a good number of explosives here.’
‘And I bet not one of them knows as much about ’em as you do. And don’t forget there’s still the rest of that cache of Captain Pendlebury’s. If they haven’t already blown themselves up on it, we could make good use of that.’
‘That’s true. It’s still going to be bleeding difficult, though.’
‘I thought that too. Last night I was thinking it was nigh on impossible, but now I’m not so sure.’
‘How come?’
‘Well, I wonder how many troops are in the town itself. They’ve got pretty much the whole island to garrison after all, plus three airfields. We’ll have surprise on our side and with the explosives we can create a few diversions. You’ve still got those time switches,
have you?’
‘No, but there’s some in the cave here. I saw a box of them.’
‘There you go, then. I’m not saying it’ll be easy but I reckon it’s possible. Perfectly possible.’
‘And I’m sure Alopex’s sister will be very grateful if we pull it off.’ Sykes smirked at Tanner, who looked down sheepishly.
‘I’ve got to admit, Stan, I can’t bloody stop thinking about her. It’s ridiculous – I only talked to her for about five minutes, but there was something about her, don’t know what quite, but I don’t like the thought of her being a prisoner of those Nazi bastards. I don’t like it one little bit.’
‘Just do me a favour, will you, Jack?’ said Sykes. ‘Don’t go upsetting Alopex again.’
‘Alopex? Oh, he and I are mates now. Putty in my hands.’ He grinned.
‘Where is he?’
‘He’s gone down to the village. We’re going to meet him in Krousonas later.’
‘And what about the captain?’
‘What about him?’ said Peploe’s voice.
The two men turned and saw him walking towards them.
‘Morning, sir,’ said Sykes. ‘We were just discussing a little plan of action.’
‘Oh, yes?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Tanner. ‘You see, I was thinking that most of these Cretans here aren’t exactly well trained. And, of course, no one can handle explosives like Sykes.’
‘So we were thinking we should take it upon ourselves,’ added Sykes, ‘to get Alopex’s family out of choky and carry out a bit of mischief while we’re at it.’
‘Oh, were you?’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Tanner. ‘It’s the least we can do after the rest of us were forced to leave them in the lurch like that.’
‘If I’m honest, the same thought had crossed my mind,’ said Peploe, ‘but we’re going to need their help too, you know.’
Blood of Honour Page 29