"Well done, Jean-Paul. This place couldn't be better."
The stores were concealed and the men made their way back to Madeleine, re-joining her about an hour after they left. By the time the first light of dawn broke over the hills, the five conspirators were in their beds and there was no sign at all that they had ever been up on the high meadow.
They met up at the cave again the following evening, to give Tony the opportunity to acquaint his companions with what was in the container. He had thought long and hard about how the submarine pens were to be destroyed and now he wished to convey his plans to his colleagues. Tony opened one of the packs, and took out a large lump of a putty-like substance. He began to mould it in his hands.
"This is plastic explosive."
"Explosive?" Charles eyebrows were raised in surprise. "Isn’t it dangerous to handle it like that?"
Tony smiled at the young man, so like himself. "Don't worry, Charles, this is one of the safest of all types of explosives. It won’t explode even if struck by a bullet, so it’s perfectly safe to carry around with you. It requires a detonator embedded in the mass of the plastic to make it explode. It can be moulded like dough, so we can use it in many different ways."
"What about the detonators?"
"Well Claude, they should be here somewhere." Tony rummaged in another of the packs, then smiled. "Ahhh." He held up a handful of slim tubes. "These are pencil fuses. They are colour coded. Each colour has a different timer, ranging from ten minutes to one month. See this ridge at the end? When it is depressed it releases acid, which burns through a wire. The wire breaks, and a pin springs back and fires the detonator."
"Ingenious." Claude’s mechanical mind was impressed. "What other interesting things have you got?"
"This." Tony held up a bulky object about the size of a steel helmet. "This is a limpet mine. Two pounds of plastic explosive, surrounded by half-a-dozen magnets, with a waterproof fuse. Put a few of these below the waterline, and a ship will be sunk." He smiled broadly. "Ideal for submarines!"
The others laughed. It was Madeleine who dampened the gaiety.
"We obviously have everything necessary to destroy the submarines, but how do you plan to do it, Albert?"
Tony sat down. "The fewer of us who actually go down into the base the better. Less chance of getting caught." He turned to Claude. "Will you be able to supply a car from your garage?"
The Frenchman nodded. "Yes, of course."
He turned to Madeleine. "Can you drive?"
A nod.
"Good. We’ll hide the car in the trees, about half a mile north of the base. You’ll wait there to drive us away." He smiled ruefully. "I don't envy you your job either, waiting is always the worst part. Charles," the young man looked up eagerly, "How good are you at climbing?"
"Quite good, Albert."
"Good. I thought we two, as the younger and fitter men, should go down and plant the explosives. Jean-Paul and Claude will wait at the top of the cliff, to haul us up and protect our backs."
"What with?"
Tony turned to Jean-Paul. "This." He held up a package. "Two Bren guns came with the drop." He showed them as he spoke. "Jean-Paul, do you think you and Claude can handle these?"
Both men nodded silently.
"Good. Before we leave tonight you can test-fire them. We won't be heard, will we Jean-Paul?"
“No, Albert. No-one lives near here."
"Good." He breathed deeply. He now had to commit himself to the plan and he was beginning to realise how difficult it was to lead. The lives of these four people were in his hands. "I don't see any point waiting. We do the job tomorrow."
There were murmurs of surprise at this.
"Any questions?"
There were none.
"Good. Madeleine and Charles, you make your way back home now, while Claude and Jean-Paul have a go with the Brens. Jean-Paul and I will pick up the stuff tomorrow and meet you all with the car, at the end of the lane leading to White Farm. Ten p.m."
The others nodded and disappeared into the trees. As they made their way down the steep hillside the sound of gunfire reached their ears.
62
The following night was cloudy and cold, but at least the rain held off. They met as planned and Madeleine drove without headlights to their rendezvous point. Once the car was safely hidden in the trees, Tony turned to his co-conspirators.
"Well, this is it. Anyone want to back out? If so, now is the time."
The others shook their heads, but Jean-Paul spoke for them all.
“No, this is for France. I won't pretend I'm not afraid because I am. I would be surprised if the others don't feel the same. But it’s something we have to do, Albert, and if you can come from England to do this job, then the least we can do is help you."
Tony was touched. "Thank you, Jean-Paul." He looked up at the sky. "I think it may rain later so we’d better get going. I don't want to leave wet footprints when we enter the base."
The others reached for their packs. Tony carried plastic explosives and the fuses, as well as his Bren gun. Charles carried the limpet mines, the heavier of the four packs. Jean-Paul and Claude each had a pack containing plastic, a rope slung over their shoulders and their Bren guns. Tony handed out pencil flashlights.
“The beam of these is very narrow, but only use them in an emergency. Understood?"
The others nodded.
"Right. Let's go."
The four men made their way through the trees, Tony in the lead, and they soon found themselves crouched down, gazing at the open space bordering the edge of the cliff. Tony pointed to the rocky outcrop.
"That’s where we go down. We’ll be hidden from the guards, or anyone on the cliff path."
He carefully surveyed the cliff -top but could see no signs of movement.
"Let's go."
They ran, crouched low, to the large rock where Jean-Paul had anchored Tony's rope on their previous visit. Claude and Jean-Paul shrugged off their packs and secured the two ropes, while Charles and Tony picked up the spare packs and slung them, uncomfortably, from their shoulders. Tony turned to look at Charles who nodded silently.
"Right. I'll set the timers for two hours. When we’re ready to come back up I'll give three tugs on the rope."
Jean-Paul nodded. "We'll be ready, Albert."
The two young men slid over the edge, and began to lower themselves down the cliff face. It was more difficult than Tony’s previous descent for now he was encumbered with packs and weapons, but there were no mishaps and the two men soon found themselves crouched in the shadows at the base of the cliff. Tony peered cautiously around the outcrop. He studied the approach to the narrow passageway that led through the cliff wall and into the cavern beyond. There was a movement away to his right, a dark, man-sized shadow. He slipped behind the rock and placed his mouth close to Charles' ear.
"A guard. Wait."
Charles nodded.
Removing his packs, and laying them quietly on the rocky ledge, Tony put down his gun and drew a knife from his belt. He watched the guard for some time from behind the rock. When his back was turned, Tony crept up behind him. His left hand snaked out around the man’s face and covered his mouth, silencing the gasp of surprise. The guard reached up his hands to try to loosen Tony’s iron grip, and the Englishman’s right hand came round, sliding the blade of the knife between two ribs and into the German’s heart, just as he had been shown in training. This time, however, it was different. This was a real knife and a real man. As the life drained from the guard, he slumped heavily in Tony’s arms. He stood for a moment, shocked. He had killed a man with his own hands. He had probably been a good man. Maybe he had a wife and children, a father and mother to mourn? Tony clamped down on the thoughts whirling round his head. The man was the enemy. If Tony had not killed him, then he would have tried to kill Tony. Forget the personal details. Tony hurried back towards the outcrop of rock, dragging the body with him. As he hid the guard’s body, he noticed Ch
arles' pale face and grim expression as he looked at the bloodstained knife.
"Are you all right?" he whispered.
Tony nodded, but said nothing. For a moment he contemplated taking the German’s uniform, but the bloodstained jacket would attract too much attention. They would be far less conspicuous in the blue overalls they had acquired for the night’s work. Tony retrieved his packs and gun, his face grim.
"Come on, Charles."
The young Frenchman followed closely behind Tony as he slipped silently across the rocky ledge and into the narrow passageway. Again his heart was in his mouth. What if someone was coming the other way? But there was no one there, and the two saboteurs were soon hidden behind the huge piles of supplies lining the cave walls. Tony had carefully tutored Charles in what was expected of him, and they set to work swiftly and silently. Charles passed the plastic explosive to Tony who moulded it and attached it to the supply cases, while Charles took out a pencil fuse ready for when Tony needed it. The Englishman held out his hand, and Charles passed the fuse. Within seconds it was embedded in the plastic charge and the ridge depressed, releasing the acid. Tony paused to look around.
The cavern was busy, but the movement was not as frantic as on his last visit. Perhaps there was no U-boat going out tonight. Although the centre of the huge space was well lit, there were deep shadows against the walls. The two men should be able to make a complete circuit without being seen. Tony picked up his packs and led Charles to the next pile of supplies. They worked methodically, paying little attention to the activity around them, their whole being concentrating on the job in hand. As they passed the huge metal drums, Tony sniffed at them carefully. The first stack contained water. They ignored these, but the second and third piles had the distinct smell of diesel about them. Tony smiled grimly as he placed explosives in the middle of each one. When these went up, they would certainly help to maximise the destruction.
By the time they had worked themselves round to the far side of the cavern, taking great care when passing the entrance to the crew quarters, forty-five minutes had passed. Three of the packs were empty. All that remained now were the limpet mines. Tony looked at the two sinister black shapes moored to the rocky shelf. There was little activity around the U-boats. Most of the workers seemed to have retreated to the crew’s quarters. The majority of the remaining Germans were uniformed soldiers. They probably did not understand what work was in progress and Tony felt that, if he acted confidently enough, they probably would not notice him moving around the cavern. He emptied a toolbox which he found abandoned in a dark corner, and placed four limpet mines carefully inside.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm going to try to get these onto the submarines. You hang on to my gun, and be prepared to use it if necessary."
Charles nodded as Tony rose to his feet. He sauntered towards the U-boat, toolbox in hand, his heart beating wildly yet showing an outward confidence which amazed the Frenchman. Tony did not know how he managed to cross the narrow space to the submarine without giving himself away, but there he was. Kneeling down, he slipped the first of the mines below the waterline and heard the dull thud as the magnets made contact with the hull. He hoped that there was no one on board. If there was, they would surely have heard. He continued working until all four mines were attached along the length of the submarine, then rose and sauntered back towards the pile of supplies. Once out of sight he slid to the ground, heart racing. He leant back, breathing deeply. Charles quickly joined him, obviously impressed.
"I’ve never seen such courage!" he whispered.
Tony smiled weakly. "Courage? I was terrified!"
"Let’s get out of here, then."
Tony shook his head. "No. I still have to mine the other U-boat."
Charles was wide-eyed. "Haven't you done enough?"
"I have to be sure they’ll both be destroyed."
Charles nodded. "OK. Come on."
They made their stealthy way back round the cavern until they reached their starting point. Tony placed four more limpet mines in the toolbox. He walked nonchalantly towards the second submarine. As far as any observer was concerned, he was just another worker going about his business. This U-boat was deeper in shadow than the first, and Tony completed his task swiftly before rejoining Charles behind the supplies. Two of the empty packs were slipped into a third, Charles carried this, while Tony took the pack with the two remaining limpet mines. The two men carefully surveyed the cavern. There was no evidence they had ever been there. As long as their luck held, the Germans would not know what had hit them when the charges exploded. They smiled victoriously at each other and shook hands.
"Come on." Tony’s voice was little more than a whisper. He led the way back out of the cavern. A soft drizzle had begun to fall soon after they had entered the cavern and was still falling, leaving the rocky ledge wet and slippery. The two men made their way cautiously towards the huge sea doors through which the U-boats entered the base. Tony removed the final two mines from his pack.
"These must be fitted below the waterline. I'll have to swim."
Charles looked doubtful. "Is that wise? Look at the way the waves are moving, there’s probably a strong undertow there."
"I have to risk it."
Tony slipped into the water, and Charles passed him the first of the mines. As Tony submerged, he felt the pull of water trying to drag him away. He clung desperately to the rocks with one hand, while fixing the mine with the other. He surfaced, gasping for air, his wet hair plastered to his skull, and reached out a hand for the final mine. Charles handed it over and watched as Tony disappeared beneath the waves once more. It was long, worrying moments before he re-appeared, and the grateful Frenchman dragged him from the waves.
"If you don’t mind, Albert, I think I would like to go home now."
Tony smiled. "I agree, wholeheartedly."
They made their way back to the outcropping of rock, the drizzle becoming heavier by the minute. They were so emotionally drained that the sight of the German whom Tony had killed moved them not at all. Tony looked at his watch. An hour before the first explosion. They would have plenty of time to get away. He reached out and tugged the rope, signalling Jean-Paul and Claude that they were coming back up. He frowned.
"The ropes are wet, Charles. Take care."
The Frenchman nodded and began to climb his rope swiftly and surely. Tony began his ascent too, but his hands were wet and slippery from the seawater and he found it difficult to get a grip on the rope. He struggled upwards, concerned by his physical and mental exhaustion, but knowing he had to get to the top. He looked up and saw Charles, almost at the top now, reaching a hand to the cliff edge to draw himself up. Part of the cliff came away in Charles' hand. For a moment the young Frenchman teetered on the edge, before welcoming hands reached down to pull him up. Jean-Paul and Claude dragged him over the edge as a large rock broke away and came hurtling towards Tony. He hunched down, lying as close to the cliff face as he could, trying to minimise his body and avoid the falling rock, but he knew it would hit him. When it came, the impact was on his left shoulder and he felt the whole of his left arm go numb. His fingers could no longer cling to the wet rope, and his left hand fell away. Tony closed his eyes as the pain suffused his body. He looped the rope about his good arm, hoping he could hang on until help reached him. Anxious voices called softly from above.
"Albert? Are you all right?"
"No." Tony’s voice was little more than a whisper, and he doubted if they heard him up above. He looked up. Charles was coming back over the edge of the cliff. If he could only hold on for a few moments longer. His right hand and arm were tiring and, as he felt the wet rope slipping, he knew he would not be able to hold on long enough.
"Charles!"
The Frenchman looked down.
"I can't hold on. Go back. You and the others must get clear!"
The rope finally slid through his fingers, and he found himself falling. He closed his eyes and braced
himself for the impact, willing himself not to cry out as he fell. He must not give the others away. The fall seemed to take forever, then the impact came, and he knew no more.
Up on the cliff edge three horror-struck faces gazed down at the broken body on the rocks below.
OCTOBER - DECEMBER 1941
63
Sarah walked amongst trees now clothed in red and gold. Fallen leaves rustled underfoot as she made her way through the orchard and down towards the river. A heron rose into the air, huge wings beating, long neck pulled in and long legs trailing behind. Sarah smiled. She always wondered how such a large bird could raise itself from the water, and fly so gracefully. It seemed almost impossible that it should be able to fly at all, yet it could, and she saw it as a symbol of hope. No matter how impossible things might seem, no matter how far the Germans advanced in North Africa and Russia, no matter how many young men lost their lives fighting for freedom, there was still hope for the future. Things, however impossible they seemed, would be accomplished and freedom regained. As the heron winged its way over the low hedge into the fields beyond, Sarah breathed the chill autumn air deeply, thankful she had been posted to such a beautiful and tranquil place. She had no doubt that the slow healing of her heart after Joe’s death was partly due to the peace of her surroundings. She would never forget Joe, and there would always be a secret corner of her heart devoted to his memory, but she could now face the future without him. She looked down at her finger and saw the ring he had given her. It glittered in the weak sunshine. Was it really almost a year now since he had placed it there? A slow smile played upon her lips as she toyed with it. She remembered Joe’s happiness, and her own, when she agreed to be his wife.
"Penny for them."
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