"We will have to wait until Tuesday to see what they’ve sent us. Right now, I think we had all better get home to bed. We can't afford to break our routines in the morning."
With tired smiles, the group split up. Charles, Claude and Madeleine made their way towards the darkened port of Saint Nazaire, while Jean-Paul and Tony went back to the de Thierry estate. As Tony lay in his bed some time later, his mind wandered back to the days he had spent on the estate when he was a child, days of happiness and contentment which he had thought would never end. Now he felt as though the war had been going on for most of his life, and still the end was not in sight. As he drifted into sleep, he had an image of himself as a bearded old man throwing a grenade at a German tank. He smiled at the absurdity of it as he slept.
Tuesday night was cloudy and cold, with the smell of rain in the air. Tony wished he could remain seated in front of the fire in Jean-Paul’s kitchen, but the arrangements for meeting the remainder of the group were already made. He could not let them down. Wrapping himself against the cold, damp air he trudged his way up to the high meadow and the cave where the weapons were hidden, with Jean-Paul striding along beside him. They were the last to reach the cave, and Tony smiled at the others’ obvious eagerness to get their hands on the weapons. He edged into the confined space, looking at the expectant faces in front of him.
"Right then. Let's get to work."
The six containers were hauled from their places of concealment, and opened along the long axes, looking like coffins filled with jumble. Tony ran a critical eye over the contents and nodded approvingly.
"Good. Now, sit down and I'll explain what we've got here."
His four companions seated themselves and watched eagerly as Tony delved into the first canister. He lifted a cumbersome object the size of a steel helmet, which he held up for them to see.
"I'm sure you all recognise this limpet from our last escapade, and you all saw plastic explosive before the attack on the submarine base, but I was the only one to use it. This time I want you all to feel confident about handling it and setting charges." He took a package wrapped in oilskin from a second cylinder and opened it up. It held a shapeless mass which looked, and felt, much like butter. Breaking pieces from the large block he passed one to each of his companions. "As you can see it's easily moulded which can be very useful when you are laying charges."
He put down the explosives and reached into the cylinder again.
"Remember these pencil fuses?" He held up a bundle of thin, pencil shaped objects. "The timers on them vary from ten minutes to one month. Push one of these hard into the plastic" he demonstrated as he spoke, "then all you need to do is depress the ridge here and the detonator is set. I'll preset the timers for you so you don't need to worry about that.
"This strange contraption," he held up a small bakelite box with a cloth bag suspended beneath it, "is a gammon grenade. The fusing mechanism is in the top, and you fill the bag with plastic. It takes just over a kilo. Throwing it arms the extra sensitive fuse. It will explode as soon as it hits anything. Dropped from an upper window or an embankment it can create a great deal of damage.
"These are pocket incendiaries." He held up a small device barely the size of a pocket diary. "It will burn fiercely for one minute, which is long enough to set a petrol tank or vehicle on fire. We won't be using these or gammon grenades at the docks, so I'll show you how they work another time. The same goes for these clams." He held up another small item as he spoke. "It’s a pre-shaped charge, enough to bend a railway line, or crack a cylinder block, or break an axle.
"These are thermite bombs, and we will be using them in the docks." He held up a one kilogram package. "These will, when used with incendiaries, ignite the stacks of petrol drums and machine parts." He grinned. "There was a lot of information there. Any questions?"
His companions shook their heads.
"It all seems fairly straightforward." Jean-Paul spoke for them all. "But what about guns?"
"I can see a number of the new Sten guns in there. I'll show you how to use them before we leave, but have you noticed what was packed into the spaces to stop all the equipment moving around?"
His companions shook their heads as Tony retrieved cigarettes, socks, and even tins of coffee, to the delight of those watching.
Charles grinned excitedly. "We must be the best equipped group in the whole of France!"
Tony nodded. "Yes. But this is not all for the docks. I'll sort out what each of you is to take, then bury the rest until we need it."
The group set to work. Jean-Paul and Claude each took a Sten gun, then joined the others packing their bags with thermite bombs, incendiaries, detonators, fuses, plastic explosives and limpet mines. Then Tony took his map of the docks from his pocket and spread it out on a large rock.
"Right. Here’s the plan. We attack on Friday at eleven forty-five. I want you to work in pairs. Charles, you and Jean-Paul will take the western docks area, while Claude and Madeleine make up the second pair in the east. I'll work alone down the centre. We'll go over the fence at the same point that Charles did. The fuses will all be pre-set to go off at two o’clock, so we shall have plenty of time. Work through your area slowly and carefully. Put two thermite bombs in each stack of oil drums, and two or three in each stack of engine parts. In the oil stack, add just one kilo of plastic to each bomb, but you'll need twice that amount for the engine parts as they'll take some time to ignite. For stores of food, use two kilos of plastic placed in four different areas of each warehouse." He looked at them all, face serious. "Take your time. If you haven't set all of the charges in your area by one o’clock, forget about the rest and get out. We'll meet back at Claude’s garage at one fifteen. Don't stay in the docks later than one. We have to be well away before the first explosions, and I don't want you getting caught. Leave the areas that are well patrolled. Once the charges start going off we can hope that the fires will spread there."
"Can you show me our area on the map?"
Tony nodded. “Yes, Madeleine. You and Claude will work the eastern side." He pointed to the map as he spoke. "Start with these warehouses here, they contain fuel supplies and have priority, then work your way back to the fence." He looked at the other two. "You have a lot of machine parts on your side. I want them taken out first."
"All right, Albert. And I promise to be careful."
Tony smiled. "I'm sure you will be, Charles. Just remember, if in doubt follow Jean-Paul’s lead.”
"What will you be doing, Albert? You seem to have split the whole of the docks between the rest of us."
Tony nodded. "That's right. You are to concentrate on the warehouses and stores, while I take care of the transport. If there are any ships in the docks, I'll try to get limpet mines on them. A few clams will also be useful for damaging the railway line into the docks, as well as any rolling stock. With a few pocket incendiaries I should be able to damage, or at least disable, most vehicles within the dock area, from trucks to tankers. Any questions?"
"Yes. Where do we meet?" Charles grinned and Tony laughed.
"In all the excitement I forgot that one crucial point! We’ll meet at Claude’s garage at half past eleven. Got that?" They all nodded. "Good. Now let's get outside, and I'll show you how these Sten guns work. There’s one for me, and one each for Jean-Paul and Claude, but you all need to know how to use them in case of emergencies."
The five members of the group left the cave, and soon the empty hillside echoed to the sound of Sten gun fire.
84
To Tony’s immense relief, Friday evening was cloudy with no moon to cast its light on their activities. He and Jean-Paul wore dark clothing, and smeared their faces and hands with mud so that there was less chance of them being seen. It was ten o'clock when they removed their stash of weapons from its hiding place in the manure pile. They put the necessary items in packs, which they shouldered before turning their backs to Jean-Paul’s cottage and heading off into the woods at a steady jog.
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Madeleine carefully dressed herself in some of her dead husband’s clothing, her mind full of conflicting thoughts and emotions. She was scared, more scared than she had ever been in her life before. But the touch of her husband’s clothing fired her resolve to take part in the attack on the docks and avenge his death. Careful not to leave marks which might betray her if her room was ever searched, she lifted the boards of the false bottom she had fitted inside her wardrobe, and removed the explosives Tony had placed in her care. She looked at them carefully for a moment, mentally reviewing the use of each item and how to detonate them. Once confident that she knew what to do, she placed them in a pack and glanced over at the clock beside her bed. Ten forty. Time she was on her way. Shouldering the pack Madeleine took a deep breath to calm her nerves, and slipped out of the house.
Charles was dressed and ready to leave home long before the necessary time. His heart beat wildly with excitement every time he thought of the task which lay ahead of them. This was what he had been waiting for throughout the long months since the attack on the submarine base, and he was eager to be off. Aware of Tony’s exhortation to take no unnecessary risks, he stayed quietly in his room until ten forty-five, then he carefully lifted the floorboards, taking care not to make any noise which might attract the attention of the people in the neighbouring house. After lifting out his pack, which was already filled with thermite bombs, plastic explosives, incendiaries, fuses and his spare clips for Jean-Paul’s Sten gun, Charles replaced the floorboards and rose to his feet. His excitement was now under tight control. Tonight he would prove to Tony just how efficient and reliable he could be. With a grim smiled, he hoisted the pack to his shoulder and slipped from the room.
Claude locked the doors to his garage, made sure that all the blackouts were closed, then switched on the lights. Now that the actual time of the attack was fast approaching, he felt more nervous than he had anticipated. His mouth was dry, and his hands shook as he rolled up his sleeves before delving deeply into a tank of used engine oil he had drained from cars during the past two weeks. His hand groped wildly for a moment before making contact with a slick package. With extreme care he lifted it from the drum and held it aloft to allow much of the excess oil to drain off before placing it in a tray on the workbench which he had placed there for that purpose. He carefully opened the oilskin wrappings to reveal his haversack, still packed with everything he needed for the raid. He was glad to see that no oil had seeped into the package to damage the equipment. Leaving the haversack where it was so as not to get oil on it from his hands, he went over to the sink and began to wash away the oil that coated his skin from his fingers to his elbows. He was drying his hands when there was a gentle knock at the door. Putting down the towel and picking up a tyre iron in its place, he walked cautiously towards the door.
"Who is it?" His voice was little more than a whisper, but his visitors heard it for their reply was prompt.
"Albert and Jean-Paul."
Without another word Claude switched off the light, unlocked the door and opened it just wide enough to admit the two men before closing and locking it once more. When the light was switched on again, he grinned at his two co-conspirators.
"You’re the first to arrive," he said as he made his way back to the workbench. "I was just getting my pack ready."
He lifted the haversack from its small nest of oil skins and carefully placed it on one side as he spoke.
"Has that been hidden in the oil drum?" Claude nodded. "A good idea. Well done."
Within the next five minutes the remaining two members of the group had arrived. They listened as Tony went over the final details.
“Right," he said. "This is just a reminder, which I'm sure you don't really need but it will probably help us all to calm our nerves. Two thermite bombs in each stack of oil drums." He held up a bomb as he spoke. "Two or three in every stack of engine parts. You only need plastic for the food and clothing supplies, they should start burning on their own. Now, the fuses." He held up one of the pencil fuses as he spoke. "Remember to push it well into the plastic. I’ll pre-set a number of them for us. See the colour codes on the side? We’ll be using the white, which is pre-set for two hours. I’ll give you twelve pre-set fuses each. It should be enough. If you don't use them all leave them in the docks as they will explode at the same time as the others. I’ll give you some that haven’t been set just in case you don't have enough. Set them just as I’ve explained to you here using the white code. They will obviously detonate some time after the others but don't worry about that, it will just add to the chaos and confusion. I hope." He grinned at his companions. "Any questions?" There were none so Tony led his small sabotage group out of the garage and off in the direction of the docks.
They moved swiftly and silently, staying hidden in the shadows as much as possible, and found themselves in a bombed out warehouse opposite the docks at ten minutes past midnight. Tony expertly set the pencil fuses before handing them out, giving them the maximum time possible to work in the docks before they exploded. He looked round at the tense, determined faces and felt a surge of pride. He was responsible for bringing them together, and any destruction of the dock would be a direct result of his work. Yet with the feeling of pride came an overwhelming sense of responsibility. He was responsible for their lives, too, and he felt that this was something which he would never get used to. Noting the nervousness of his companions, he smiled reassuringly.
"This is where we strike a blow for Free France. I'll see you back at Claude’s garage at one fifteen. Let’s get to it.”
With that he crept across the open space to the fence that surrounded the docks. Charles showed them where he had previously gained entrance and they slipped inside before splitting up into three groups and moving off to their designated areas.
Claude had his Sten gun in his hand and his pack slung over one shoulder, so he would be able to reach it quickly if necessary. He led the way into the eastern part of the docks, closely followed by Madeleine, a look of grim determination on her face. Claude planned to start at the far end of their assigned area and then work back towards the fence, so he led the way down to the edge of the dock, ignoring the warehouses on either side. The first warehouse which they did enter was dark and cavernous. It took a few moments for their eyes to become accustomed to the pitch black interior, then Claude’s face split into a wide grin, his white teeth shining in the gloom.
"A fuel warehouse! Let’s get to work!"
The two saboteurs separated, and began to work methodically down either side of the warehouse. Two thermite bombs each with its attendant charge of plastic explosive were placed as far inside the stack of drums as was possible, with the pencil fuse pushed firmly into place. Madeleine was surprised at how steady her hands were. She had expected to feel much more nervous, but the necessity of working quickly and carefully with the explosives calmed her and she was feeling an intense excitement at the thought of the destruction she was helping to perpetrate. Within five minutes, the two were out of the warehouse and moving silently through the shadows towards their next target. It all seemed to be going well, too well perhaps, and it was not until they had planted bombs in one more fuel store and three warehouses containing food supplies that they came across their first German patrol.
Claude was about to leave the warehouse where they had finished planting explosives moments before, when he heard two voices talking softly in German. He peered round the door, his heart in his mouth, and saw two soldiers standing no more than five yards away, talking quietly together. They were standing in the open and would see him long before he had time to creep up on them. He did not want to use the gun gripped tightly in his hand unless their lives depended on it. He motioned for Madeleine to move back into the warehouse and slipped in quietly behind her. He put his mouth close to her ear and whispered.
"Germans. We'll have to wait until they've gone."
Madeleine nodded, and sat down as Claude looked at his watch. Twelve
twenty-five. They needed to leave the docks by twelve fifty if they were to make their way back to the garage in time to meet the others. He peered round the door at the Germans, who were deep in conversation. Low laughter reached his ears, and he slipped back inside, exasperated. It looked as though they were going to stand there all night, and as there was no other way out of the warehouse he and Madeleine would have to wait until they had gone. With a knot of fear growing in his stomach, he sat down beside Madeleine to wait, Sten gun held loosely in his hands but ready for use at a moment’s notice.
Jean-Paul and Charles worked their way methodically down the western side of the docks. They had covered half their assigned area, planting bombs in warehouses full of engine parts and fuel, when disaster struck. Moving through the shadows between two warehouses they heard the steady crunch of approaching footsteps and pressed themselves against the wall in the forlorn hope that whoever was approaching would fail to see them. Despite their dark clothing and dirt-smeared faces, the German saw them as soon as he turned the corner less than two yards away. For a moment he stood in stunned surprise at the sight of the two intruders, and the two Frenchmen took full advantage of the few seconds of time his shock gave them.
"Now!"
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