Blood of Honour

by James Holland

‘Yes, but this will only work if there’s a few of us,’ said Tanner. ‘It’s a small-scale operation. You, me, Stan here. Maybe one other and perhaps a couple of andartes. No more. Stealth is the key.’

  ‘I certainly doubt a few days’ delay will make any difference to our chances of getting off the island,’ said Peploe, stroking his chin thoughtfully.

  ‘It’ll help them, sir,’ said Tanner, ‘especially if we pull this off. These Cretan lads are being good to us, but they’ll be a hell of a lot more helpful if we show a bit of willing. And we’ll be able to prove that, whatever the rest of the British Army might be like, we Rangers are not men to run away in a hurry.’

  ‘A matter of honour, eh, Jack?’ Peploe smiled.

  ‘If you like, sir, yes.’

  Peploe thought for a moment. ‘All right. This is going to need consideration but let’s at least put it to Satanas and Captain Vaughan.’ He paused and looked out towards the mountain peaks ahead of them. ‘This is a beautiful place, isn’t it? If only we weren’t at war, I’d be really enjoying myself.’

  ‘Well, sir,’ said Tanner, ‘I’d rather be here planning our revenge than sitting at Alex feeling fed up and guilty for running out on the place.’

  Peploe laughed. ‘That, Jack,’ he said, ‘is the difference between you and me.’

  Saturday, 31 May, 6.30 a.m. Golden shafts of light now lit the mountains as Rangers and Cretans brewed up German ersatz coffee over newly made fires. Clutching an enamel mug of milchkaffee, Peploe spoke to Satanas and Vaughan, outlining his proposal.

  ‘Tanner suggested as much last night,’ said Satanas. ‘I was sure he meant it – he is almost Cretan, he has so much pride. I was less sure you would want to risk your men on such a venture.’

  ‘With the greatest respect,’ said Peploe, ‘we think we might be the best men for the task. We also feel we owe it to you to try.’

  Satanas appeared to be genuinely touched by Peploe’s offer. He smiled and clasped the captain’s shoulder. ‘I would not like to blame any of you for another man’s folly. We know you are good, brave men.’

  ‘And I would like to go with you,’ said Vaughan. ‘I know where Pendlebury’s cache is and the streets and alleys of Heraklion as well as anyone.’

  ‘First,’ said Satanas, ‘we must go to Krousonas. There we will meet with Alopex and hopefully learn some news from Heraklion.’

  They got going soon after. Peploe left Lieutenant McDonald in charge of the Rangers, then, with Tanner and Sykes in tow, followed Satanas, two of his andartes and Captain Vaughan along the track down the ravine. One of Alopex’s men was waiting for them on a bend in the track just above the village and led them down a long, dusty lane lined with plane trees to an ancient monastery. At its heart was the whitewashed church, twin bells raised above the roof at one end, while the monastery buildings spread around it and a narrow courtyard.

  ‘The monastery of Agia Irini,’ said Satanas. ‘The abbot, Father Gregorikis, is a good man and a friend.’

  As they passed through the gates, a monk appeared and led them to a room in a low terracotta-roofed building across the courtyard from the church. Inside was a long oak table with benches at either side. Alopex was there, with the abbot and another man. Alopex stood up as they entered. Tanner saw the cut around his eye and the bruising on his face, and nodded in acknowledgement; he was, he realized, glad to have the big Cretan as an ally rather than an enemy.

  Introductions were made. The abbot, dressed in black, his face almost entirely covered with a thick white beard and his head with an elaborate black hat and cape, greeted them in turn, clasping their hands in both of his and muttering some words Tanner was unable to understand. The other man was Yanni Mandoukis. He looked exhausted, his eyes hollow, his lean face unshaven and dirty. Tanner watched Satanas embrace him, then sit on the bench the abbot indicated with his outstretched hand. It was cool and dim in the room, the walls plastered and whitewashed, the air slightly musty, earthy. A monk entered bearing coffee – real coffee this time, thick and sweet.

  ‘Yanni fought alongside us in Heraklion,’ said Alopex to Peploe, Tanner and Sykes. ‘He has family here in Krousonas.’

  ‘He fought well,’ said Vaughan.

  ‘The Germans have taken his wife,’ said Alopex.

  ‘But not him?’ said Tanner.

  ‘He was not there,’ Alopex explained. ‘They arrived two days ago, ransacked his house, looking for weapons. They took his wife too. It seems I am not the only one these bastards are trying to ensnare. They have been carrying out a number of raids on houses, taking people and questioning them. As you said, my friend,’ Alopex looked at Tanner, ‘someone must have talked.’

  Tanner saw Mandoukis look away, at his fingers, then at the abbot, then at some distant spot on the wall opposite.

  ‘Do you know where your wife and the others are being held?’ Peploe asked Mandoukis directly. He looked quizzically at Alopex for help.

  ‘The Germans are using the Megaron as their headquarters,’ said Alopex, ‘but his wife is being held in the Sabbionera Bastion.’

  ‘It’s right next to the Megaron,’ said Vaughan. ‘Down by the east side of the harbour.’

  ‘He is pretty sure my family will have been taken there too.’

  ‘How does he know?’ asked Tanner. He saw Mandoukis glance anxiously at Alopex again and then at Satanas.

  ‘He arrived back at his house just as his wife was being taken away,’ said Alopex. ‘He followed them. We must get Petrina out as well.’

  Mandoukis looked at Tanner, then touched his eye. He breathed in heavily, his face racked with despair.

  ‘We need to know for certain that is where they’re being held,’ said Vaughan.

  ‘Leave that to me,’ said Satanas. ‘I will get this information for you.’

  ‘How?’ asked Tanner.

  Satanas smiled. ‘You think no one will have seen two women and a child, surrounded by German troops, being driven through the town?’

  ‘Satanas has plenty of runners,’ said Vaughan, ‘not least his own grandchildren.’

  Satanas acknowledged Vaughan with a slight nod. ‘I will have this information before the day is out.’

  ‘And who is going to carry out the raid?’ asked Vaughan.

  ‘Not Alopex and not Mandoukis,’ said Tanner.

  ‘I am coming,’ said Alopex.

  ‘No,’ said Tanner. ‘Listen to me a moment. The key is going to be surprise. To achieve that, we need to get into the heart of the town without alerting a soul. So how are we going to do that?’

  ‘By making sure no one sees us,’ said Alopex.

  ‘But how? There will be guards at every gate. No one will be able to enter the town without being stopped and checked. The alternative is to try to get through where the walls are crumbling but they’ll have men there too. We won’t be able to get past without killing some and then they’ll be discovered and we’ll be in trouble.’

  ‘There’s only one way,’ said Sykes. ‘We need to do some dressing up.’

  ‘Exactly,’ said Tanner. ‘We need Jerry uniforms. Sir,’ he said, turning to Peploe, ‘you speak German, don’t you?’

  ‘So do I,’ said Vaughan. ‘I’m completely fluent. Tanner has a point, Alopex,’ he added. ‘We could pass for Germans, but neither you nor Mandoukis nor any of your andartes could.’

  ‘Unless you wish to cut your hair and shave off your moustache,’ said Satanas. ‘No, Tanner is right. We must trust our British friends to do this for us. It is hard, Alopex, but the Germans know about us. They do not know these men are still on the island. That is an advantage we must use.’

  Alopex thumped the table with his fist.

  ‘I’m sorry, Alopex,’ said Vaughan.

  ‘No, no – you are right,’ he said.

  ‘Where do we get the uniforms from?’ asked Peploe.

  ‘There are still some dead ones that have not been buried,’ said Alopex. ‘We can have the uniforms washed.’

  ‘
But they’ll be torn and covered in blood,’ said Vaughan. ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘There is another way,’ said Satanas. ‘There is a lot of traffic now going between Heraklion, Rethymno and Canea. Between Gazi and Arolithos there would be an opportunity for an ambush. My men can help you with that. It is only a two-hour walk away.’

  ‘Yes, all right,’ said Vaughan. ‘We should go there now. Who knows how long we might have to wait?’

  ‘Alopex can take some of his men to help,’ said Satanas, ‘and I will organize the gathering of intelligence.’ He spoke to Mandoukis and the abbot. ‘And,’ he added, ‘Mandoukis will stay here.’

  ‘So, do we try and make our rescue tomorrow night?’ asked Peploe.

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ said Vaughan.

  ‘Very well,’ said Satanas, clapping his hands together. ‘We are all agreed. These are terrible days that we live in. Already the Germans have made it clear they intend to rule through terror. We can expect retaliation, I think, not only for what we are planning in Heraklion but for any ambush as well. They will burn houses, no doubt shoot people too. But we cannot be cowed by this. We never gave up in our struggle against the Turks and we won that battle, just as we shall win this too. I truly fear what lies ahead but we cannot – we must not – accept Nazi rule. Not now, not ever. No German has the right to tell us Cretans how to live our lives. The mountains are our friends. We must use them to help us survive. I would rather die than become a slave to Germany.’ He placed his hands flat on the table. ‘I have said my piece. Now let us make this first stand against the enemy.’

  Tanner saw silent tears run down Alopex’s cheeks. He thought of the previous summer when they had returned from Dunkirk. The nation had been expecting a German invasion at any moment. There had been defiance then, a collective determination to fight on, whatever the cost. Had German troops ever reached the valley of his home, he knew he would have been compelled to kill as many of the enemy as he could, no matter what the consequences – yet home was a place he had not been in nine years and no German invasion had ever come to pass. He could only imagine the sense of bitter anger these Cretans must feel. Of course Satanas, Alopex and others would fight on.

  As it happened, they did not need to go as far as Arolithos. Tilisos was a little over an hour’s walk away, and as they reached the far side of the village, crossing the olive groves at either side of the road, they saw a dust cloud a mile or so off, the telltale sign of approaching traffic. Peering through his field glasses Tanner saw that it was a lone truck – it looked to him very much like a captured British fifteen-hundredweight Morris. Through the dust he spotted a dozen paratroopers.

  ‘We’re in luck,’ he said. He hurried forward through the olives to the bank next to the edge of the road and quickly scanned the ground. The truck was moving steadily up a comparatively straight stretch, but then the road curved tightly around, first, a left-hand bend and then a right. What Tanner liked about it, though, was that the road actually dropped down towards the right-hand bend: there would be some momentum behind the vehicle as it approached the turn.

  Alopex, Vaughan and Peploe were beside him, crouching through the long grass between the olives. Beyond was the valley below, rolling hills covered with ever more vines and olives. Away to their left, they could see Heraklion and the azure sea beyond.

  ‘We need to move forward a couple of hundred yards,’ said Tanner, his voice quick and precise. ‘As they emerge round that right-hand bend there, I’ll hit the driver. With a bit of luck he’ll drive on over the edge. It looks quite steep there and the olives are spaced quite well apart. The truck should roll and at the very least the men will be thrown out. It won’t kill them all, but we want to shoot dead as few as possible.’

  ‘Good plan,’ said Vaughan. ‘Let’s move then. We need to be quick.’

  They hurried forward, and about fifty yards from the bend, Alopex dashed across the road with several of his men and ducked below the line of the road in the olive grove below, while the rest stayed behind Tanner. Pulling out his Aldis scope, Tanner fixed it to his Enfield, then hastily adjusted the zero; although he knew he would be able to see the driver clearly from that distance, he wanted to be certain he made as accurate a shot as possible. He found a large rock, lay down in the grass and rested his rifle barrel on it, steadied himself and peered through the scope, waiting.

  The truck was now out of sight, but he could hear it as its driver changed gear when they approached the left-hand bend. Down another gear, then foot on the throttle, engine rising, another change of gear, and then it was on the stretch down towards the second bend. Tanner pulled back the bolt on his rifle and felt his finger lightly caress the trigger. Now the engine was changing tone again as brakes were applied and it approached the second bend. Tanner breathed in, then held his breath. Come on, come on, he thought. And suddenly there it was, the front of the truck appearing around the bend, filling his scope. Tanner took a second to focus on the driver, aimed for the centre of the man’s cloth-capped forehead and squeezed the trigger.

  The butt lurched into his shoulder, the crack of the rifle rang out sharply, and the driver’s head snapped backwards. The startled passenger reached for the steering wheel, but Tanner had already pulled back the bolt again and fired. The second man fell backwards just as the front of the truck tipped over the edge of the road. For a moment it rolled and bounced forward, men jumping free from the back, but then hit a tree with a glancing blow, toppled over and began to roll down the steep slopes until it was lost to sight.

  ‘Quick!’ said Vaughan, and now they were all jumping down onto the road and scampering across. With his rifle hastily slung across his back and his Schmeisser ready, Tanner reached the lip of the road as, with a crash, the truck at last came to a halt a hundred yards below, mangled and bent between two olives, while in front of him Alopex and his men were using knives and rifle butts to kill those who had jumped.

  Tanner ran down through the trees. Several men, he saw, were lying spreadeagled around the smashed truck, but at least two were moving. He ran on and was conscious of Alopex beside him, bloodstained knife in his hand, flitting between the trees.

  A paratrooper saw them and tried to manoeuvre his rifle but Alopex reached him before he could fire, knocked the weapon clear and swung his fist hard into the side of the man’s head. Tanner pounced on the second man, clenched his arm around the German’s neck so that he gripped the back of his head, then with his other hand gave a sudden, firm jerk that broke the man’s spinal cord, killing him instantly.

  ‘A fine shot, Jack,’ said Alopex, using Tanner’s Christian name for the first time. ‘Your plan worked perfectly.’

  ‘Are there any others?’ said Tanner. There were loose pieces of paper scattered around the truck, which hissed and ticked as its now broken engine cooled. He grabbed a sheet.

  ‘Here,’ he said, passing it to Alopex. ‘It’s all Greek to me.’

  Alopex took it. ‘A warning from General Student, whoever he may be,’ he said. ‘Threats – the Germans will shoot us, burn villages, execute male populations as a reprisal against any sabotage or atrocities by us Cretans.’ He screwed it up. ‘They must have been on their way to put these up around the villages. They were wasting their time.’

  ‘You’d take no notice?’

  ‘No – hardly anyone can read.’ Alopex laughed. ‘Stupid Nazi sons of whores.’

  Tanner grinned, picked up another of the notices and tucked it into his pocket. Further back up the hill he saw a guerrilla raise his rifle in salute. ‘We should hurry this up,’ he said to Alopex. ‘We need to get these men stripped and bundle some of them back in the truck. If we set fire to it, it’s just possible the Germans will think it was an accident – after all, they’re mostly young troops driving an unfamiliar vehicle on unfamiliar roads. We can leave a couple of the men on the slopes here, but they need to be dressed still and to look as though they were killed as the truck fell.’

  ‘Good idea. I wil
l tell the others,’ said Alopex.

  Tanner began to strip the two men they had just killed: boots, trousers, jump smocks, which, he noticed, both men had rolled up to the elbow, shirts, belts, webbing, field caps and helmets, which were quite different from the normal German coal-scuttle design. He felt in the pockets and found some cigarettes, but also letters and a few photographs. Tanner looked at them: a family shot, a mother, father and younger sister. Tanner sighed, and wiped his brow. ‘Bloody hell,’ he muttered. Both men had been young – early twenties, he guessed. Maybe even younger. Just kids. Having made a pile of their kit, he moved the bodies beside the truck. Alopex was returning with Vaughan and several of the andartes, each carrying a stripped and dead German.

  ‘Here,’ said Tanner. ‘Put them in the back.’

  ‘We’d better not take their weapons,’ said Vaughan.

  Alopex looked disappointed and threw a Schmeisser into the back of the truck. ‘No, you are right – but it is hard to throw away guns.’

  Seeing an oily rag in the open store box between the off-side wheels Tanner took it, hurried around to the other side, drew out his sword bayonet and punctured the fuel tank then held the rag under it until it was soaked in the fluid.

  When the bodies had been dumped in the back and the men had moved out of the way, Tanner wrapped the rag around a stick, lit it and threw it at the truck. The petrol seeping onto the grass immediately flared up and, moments later, the rest of the petrol tank exploded. In no time, the entire truck was engulfed in livid flames, thick smoke billowing into the sky from the rubber tyres, the wooden flooring and sides. The bonnet burst open as fire from the ignited oil in the engine caused the metal to twist.

  ‘Come on,’ said Peploe, ‘we need to get out of here quickly.’ Alopex cuffed one of his men, who was still watching the spectacle, but then all of them were scampering back up the slope, through the trees, German boots around their necks and uniforms bundled under their arms. Crossing the road, they clambered back up the other side and, using the olives as cover, hurried back towards Silhos.