by Julian Noyce
Johnny half smiled.
“I suppose we do.”
Alf grabbed hold of one of the large hooks attached to the rusty steel chains. He found he had to use all his strength to move them. They were as thick as his wrist. He put his left foot up on the tailgate of the truck for more leverage and gritted his teeth. Johnny grabbed the chain and began pulling as well.
“These are heavy,” he said.
“Should do the trick.”
They carried the chains over to the broken down Jeep. One end ended in a large hook. There was an eye at the front of the Jeep. Alf attached the hook and waited as one of the A.E.C trucks was reversed into position. Alf threaded the chain through the trucks tailgate and around the Jeeps front again and back to the truck with the other hook. There was some slack and Alf beckoned the driver of the A.E.C to move forward slowly to take it up. The chain links grated against each other as they were pulled tight. The Jeeps driver released his parking brake and the jeep rolled forward as the A.E.C pulled away.
“You’d better hurry unless you want to be left behind,” the Jeeps driver said as he passed Alf and Johnny. They laughed as they ran to catch him. Alf jumped into the passenger seat as the two vehicles sped up and suddenly Johnny found himself having to sprint to keep up with them. Johnny reached out a hand and Alf grabbed it and pulled him up.
“If you want to travel first class mate you’d better get your finger out,” the driver was laughing.
“Yeah thanks a lot mate!” Johnny said out of breath.
Alf smiled at Johnny.
“These S.A.S blokes are all right.”
“You think so,” Johnny wasn’t at all impressed.
“He wouldn’t have left you behind,” Alf said looking at the driver. The driver looked over his shoulder at Johnny.
“Yes I would,” he said.
Johnny just squinted at him. Then the driver broke into a grin.
“Name’s Danny. Danny Boyle.”
“Alfie Dennis. And that there’s Johnny Larder.”
Johnny nodded for what could pass as a greeting.
“You get those scars from your plane crash?
“You all know about that?” Alf was surprised.
“I heard a bit about it. Something about a stolen German aeroplane. You wanna tell me about it?”
Alf couldn’t be bothered. He was tired of repeating the story.
“There’s not really much to tell.”
“Fair enough mate.”
“I wouldn’t mind learning a bit about what you do though.”
Danny looked Alf up and down.
“It’s all pretty boring stuff mate. Just making maps and logging stuff. Not really much to it.”
Every half an hour Rushton would pull his Jeep over to allow the convoy to continue with Doyle in the lead. He would wait for the towing vehicles to catch up. The first time he did this he was surprised to see the two engineers in the Jeep. The Jeep was more comfortable than the truck which would certainly be warmer.
“We’ll continue for another two hours,” he said once they’d stopped and got out of the vehicles. He spread a map across the jeep’s bonnet.
“Here,” he said pointing to a location on the map “We will take a short rest. The others will no doubt arrive there long before you do.”
He considered again the possibility of tipping the broken down Jeep over the side of the mountain. It would make life easier, but he could ill afford the loss.
“When you stop we’ll try to get it started again.”
“Yes sir,” Alf said “I think it’s fuel starvation. Can’t be sure until we have the proper tools.”
“Try it now,” Rushton ordered.
Danny turned the engine over once again.
“Stop!” Rushton said “You’ll wear the batteries down and if you keep turning it over we’ll have to bleed it too. I’m going to go ahead and catch the convoy again. When you get to this fork here….” he again pointed to his map “….I’ll leave an empty ammunition can on the road we take. Not sure which one it will be but the can will be somewhere near the turn. There’s been a fair bit of rain on the mountains lately so the higher road may not be accessible. Won’t know ’til we get there.”
“Understood sir.”
“Is there anything you need Boyle?” Rushton asked looking into the back of the Jeep.
Boyle leaned over the back of his seat. They had plenty of water, some food, spare fuel, a spare wheel, spare chains, shovels, first aid kit.
“You seem to have everything you need,” Rushton looked up at the Vickers ’K’ machine gun mounted above the rear seats.
“When was that last serviced?”
“Um not today sir. I think it was yesterday.”
“Might be a good idea to give it the once over just in case. You never know when you might need to use it.”
“I’ll do that sir,” Alf volunteered.
“Very well. I’m really beginning to like you Lieutenant. You are proving yourself to be of some worth.”
“Thank you sir.”
Rushton climbed back into his Jeep and roared away.
“’Ere Alf was he being sarcastic?”
Alf watched the dust kicked up by the speeding Jeep.
“No I don’t think so.”
“Take it from me,” Boyle said “The Major is the easiest man in the world to get on with but God help you if you ever upset him. Him and that guard dog of his sergeant Doyle.”
When they got to the fork they could see the ammunition case on the lower road. It was now spitting with rain and Boyle guessed Rushton hadn’t wanted to push his luck. Dry mountain roads could very easily become killer landslides, roads could be washed away in seconds burying everything in their path.
Alf looked up at the cloud covered peaks. It was much colder now and felt damp. He pulled his scarf up to cover his neck better and pulled the collar of his jacket as high as it would go over the scarf. Now it started to rain. The first cold drops stinging his face was a shock to the system. He wiped the water away.
“You might find some hats in the back somewhere,” Boyle said.
Johnny instantly began the search.
“Under the sheet.”
Johnny found a flat cap and an old hat that looked like a fedora and something that looked Australian. Boyle took the fedora, Johnny the Australian.
“Suits you,” Alf said.
His hat was too big and after trying to keep it on twice and failing because of the wind he threw it back at Johnny.
“Do you want this one then Alf?
Alf shook his head.
“You keep it.”
His short hair was wet in minutes. Boyle looked across at him and grinned. Alf just squinted back.
“You could always sit in the truck mate.”
Alf thought about it. The truck was cold and uncomfortable. You got thrown about a lot inside it. The Jeep wasn’t much better but the seats were more comfortable. The truck was at least dry inside. But then if he did sit inside it all he could do was look out at the Jeep following. He decided to stay where he was.
“I’ll stay where I am.”
“Suit yourself.”
Alf glanced up again at the craggy slopes above them. Rocks jutted out here and there, sometimes hanging out over the road. Sometimes looking up he could see rocks and stones tumbling down and once he saw animals, goats or sheep he couldn’t be sure. They were hundreds of feet up perched precariously above nothing. To fall would be certain death.
’Incredible animals’
Now it began to rain hard. The truck pulling the Jeep was getting slower and slower. The two vehicles limped in at the rendezvous point to join the others. They arrived to a great cheer.
“Glad you could make it Boyle.”
“What took you so long?”
“My grandfather drives quicker than you.”
“Yeah. Yeah. Yeah,” Boyle said as his friends mocked him.
The three of them got out of their Jeep
. Rushton was heading towards them.
“Oh here we go,” Johnny said “You two men can get to work on that Jeep straight away. The others have all had a rest. But you two can get straight to work. No rest for you….”
“Johnny!”
“Yeah well he can kiss my arse.”
“That’s enough before he hears you.”
“Well I’m getting tired of it Alf.”
“I know but just be careful what you say out loud son.”
“Still in one piece then I see,” Rushton said looking the Jeep over.
“Yes sir. We were hoping to have a short break before taking a proper look at her.”
“That’s absolutely fine lieutenant. Wilkins and his team will be dealing with it.”
Four men Alf and Johnny had not seen before set to work on the Jeep, undoing the chains, moving the truck. In no time the bonnet was up and the four of them were poking and prodding about.
“I’ve not noticed these men before sir,” Alf said.
“No. They’ve been out for nearly two weeks. This was our rendezvous point. We’re going to remain here for the rest of the afternoon. We’ll be moving on tonight. There will be a full moon.”
Billy Wilkins popped his head up from out under the bonnet.
“It’s damp Sir.”
“Damp.”
“Yes the leads are damp. It’s this damp desert air, especially first thing in the morning. The electrics, well, they just don’t like it Major. We’ve got a loose wire here or a damp connection or something. It could be the coil or the conductors….”
Rushton put up a hand to stop him. Wilkins was well known for running into details, giving lectures when one wasn’t necessary. He was also the best mechanic anyone had ever met.
“Spare me the details. Can you fix it?”
Wilkins’ enthusiasm as always was infectious.
“I hope so sir. I’m certainly going to try. In no time at all we’ll have old Vera here running. You mark my word sir.”
Johnny looked at Alf.
“Vera?”
“Yes Vera,” Boyle butted in.
“You named your Jeep Vera?”
“Yes Vera. After Vera Lynn….What’s so funny?”
“Bet Vera Lynn’s impressed. Giving her name to an old rust bucket.”
“This is a very good Jeep. We always name our Jeeps.”
“But Vera Lynn is a beautiful woman.”
Boyle was offended.
“Look mate we name our Jeeps after women all right! It’s the only thing that keeps us going.”
“All right you two that’s enough!”
Boyle glared at Alf.
“And I don’t take orders from you either.”
Something snapped in Alf. It was not often it happened and when it did it surprised even him. Sometimes a man just couldn’t take anymore. This time though he really saw red.
“I am an officer of the King’s army!” he bellowed “Who the hell do you think you’re talking to! Stand up and salute me man when you address me.”
Boyle jumped nervously to his feet. He was not used to being spoken to like this. Even Rushton didn’t speak to his men like that.
“I don’t care what you men do out here but I will not tolerate insubordination. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes Sir,” Boyle replied “I will be reporting this to Major Rushton.”
“So will I,” Alf simmered “Now get out of my sight.”
Boyle scarpered, anxious to get away. Aware that his mates, some of them had witnessed the incident. He would go rushing straight to his C.O. about it. He was furious.
’These engineers have no right to give me orders’
Johnny whistled in surprise. Alf felt himself shaking with anger. He clenched his fists by his sides to control it. He was also aware that members of the L.R.D.G. were watching him.
Fifteen minutes later Johnny spotted Rushton heading towards them.
“Alf.”
Alf turned and saw.
“Oh!”
Alf and Johnny saluted. Rushton didn’t bother to return it. This warned Alf that he was probably on very thin ice.
“Lieutenant Dennis let’s you and I take a stroll.”
“Of course Sir.”
They left footprints in the damp sand as they walked. The rain had stopped for now but the black clouds on the horizon threatened more.
“Cigarette,” Rushton offered.
“Thank you.”
They stopped long enough to light them, cupping their hands over the flame in turn. Alf inhaled the first draught and it caught his throat and he coughed at the strong tobacco.
“These are a high tar,” Rushton said flipping over the carton with his fingers so he could read the label himself.
“They do take some getting used to.”
Alf nodded and coughed again. His eyes were watering. Rushton patted him on the back. Then suddenly the friendliness was gone. Alf noticed the change instantly.
“Lieutenant my men are a good bunch.”
Alf’s voice sounded strange from the coughing. Finally he was able to clear his throat.
“Yes Sir.”
“Better?”
The friendliness was back. Alf nodded, clearing his throat once more.
“Thank you.”
“Yes as I was saying. My men are a good lot. They work very hard out here, in all conditions, cold, heat, wet, and they never complain. Never ask for anything. Always going without. Sometimes spending weeks away from civilisation, missing out on the basic luxuries others may have. Having to sleep rough, in the backs of lorries or just under the stars….”
Alf opened his mouth to speak. Most soldiers out here had to live like that sometimes.
“….Never receiving mail, news from home of loved ones. The last time Boyle received any news was to tell him that both his parents had been killed when their house collapsed on top of them following a Luftwaffe strike.”
Alf rolled his eyes heavenwards.
“That’s terrible news Major.”
“He hasn’t got much to go home to has he.”
Alf felt terrible now, that he’d lost his rag with Boyle.
“No.”
“We’re the only family he has now.”
“There are many men with the same story to tell Major.”
“Do you know how old he is Lieutenant?”
Alf shook his head.
“No Sir.”
“He’s nineteen. Nineteen years old. And when this war is finished he has to go home to nothing and start his life all over again.”
“It’s a very hard story to bear Sir.”
“Like I said my men are a good bunch. They’re very loyal. Loyal to me. Most of them have only ever taken orders from myself or Sergeant Doyle.”
Alf knew where this conversation was going. He also knew that though he was a Lieutenant, no, an acting Lieutenant, he was not going to get anywhere with Rushton. Probably only into trouble. Trouble he and Larder could do without.
“I may have over-reacted Major.”
“May have? I’d say you definitely did man.”
“I apologise Sir. I guess I let the General’s orders go to my head.”
‘If only Boyle had behaved like that in front of Montgomery’
Alf winced. Blood would have flowed.
“Yes, well, I’m sure it won’t happen again Lieutenant. It really would be better for all concerned if you just try to get along while you are with us.”
“Yes Sir.”
“Well then no harm done. I trust this has given you something to think about.”
Wilkins whooped with delight when he got ’Vera’ started. It caught Rushton and Alf’s attention.
“Whatever you do mate keep her running,” he instructed Boyle, “The leads are damp but if you keep her going the power running through them should dry them out.”
Boyle jumped into the driver’s seat and patted the steering wheel.
“Well done old girl.”
He was still smiling when Alf and Rushton walked over.
“They got her going,” he said more to Alf than Rushton.
“He needs to keep her running Sir to help dry her out.”
“Well done Wilkins. Sergeant Doyle assign more fuel to this Jeep please. If he’s going to keep her running he’s going to need it. As for the rest of you, you’d better get some rest. We have a long night ahead of us.”
CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Corporal Ralf Klum of the Wehrmacht braked his motor cycle sidecar gently for the last one hundred yards of the descent. The brakes squealed slightly. The road had ruts in it caused by the afternoon’s downpour. Loose stones were piled at the bottom of where the rain had washed. His front wheel had already skidded twice on the way down. He stopped at the fork in the road unsure as to which way they should turn. The mountainside rose steeply both left and right of him. Ahead of him was an old crumbling stone wall and a sheer drop. Another motor cycle skidded to a halt alongside. This new rider lifted up his goggles leaving large clean circles around his eyes. The rest of his face was dirty. He leaned over and spat to rid himself of the constant grit in his mouth. He quickly took his flask from his belt and raised it to his lips. He swallowed the cool water, then took another mouthful and spat this out as well. He screwed the cap back on as he saw the first of the trucks appear in his mirror. He waited until he could see two more then looked at Klum and jerked his thumb left.
“This way.”
The two motorcycles turned onto the mountain road abreast of each other. Klum noticed an ammunition box laying discarded at the side of the road which he thought was strange. Even more strange was that it looked to be British. There weren’t supposed to be British forces this close to Gabes. He quickly forgot about it as he saw the first of the trucks turn to follow the motorcycles. Klum had no idea as to what was in the second truck of the convoy but he knew it must be of immense value. Everything had been kept hushed up. He knew that something had taken place out in the desert. He had seen a glimpse of something large excavated from the sand. The SS had kept everything discreet and the ordinary Wehrmacht had been kept away. Klum had been ordered to give a message to the Colonel but the SS guards had moved him on after finding Koenig but not before he’d seen it. It was made of stone and looked to be some sort of altar or something. He hadn’t seen it for long enough, but it was a large rectangular stone block . All he could think of was it looked like an altar from a church.