Behind Enemy Lines

Home > Other > Behind Enemy Lines > Page 9
Behind Enemy Lines Page 9

by Hosker, Griff


  Horace snorted, “No, Jack. It is Waller who is a failure. You have to face it there are some bad ‘uns. He is one.” Shaking his head he laughed, “I bet you would have tried to make a decent soldier out of Adolf too!”

  I left Mrs Bailey’s a little later the next day. I wanted to allow Jack the opportunity to have his chat.

  Jack was outside the office smoking a cigarette. “Did it work?”

  “I am not certain. He spent half the journey just not talking. Eventually he opened up a bit but he just doesn’t like anybody. He is a loner. Reg might be right but at least I have made the effort.

  I forgot about our bad apple once we reached the camp. Each section had the task of blowing up one part of the complex. We were just using two pound charges. The Major wanted us to see how to damage something with a small charge. Rather than have them all blow up at once we would set our charges and then retire. We would set them off one by one. It was safer and we could judge the effect better. My section had part of a conveyor used to move the tin ore to a hopper. Jack’s section would destroy the hopper.

  Ken was our demolitions expert and I watched him explain to the new men how to set the charges quickly but efficiently. We were all concentrating so hard that we jumped when we heard a shout from Jack Johnson’s section. Private Dixon came flying through the air and he was followed by Private Waller who kicked him hard in the head. The rest of the section restrained him. I ran over with the officers and the other sergeants. Jack shook his head.

  “What happened Sergeant Johnson?”

  The section medic was tending to the unconscious private. “We gave Private Waller the job of attaching the wires. Private Dixon said he was doing it wrong and he hit him and then kicked him.”

  Waller shouted, “It was not wrong! I was doing it right.”

  Horace Maguire went to the hopper and examined the wiring. “Dixon was right. This would never have gone off in a month of Sundays.”

  “I have had enough of this outfit. Major Foster I demand a transfer!”

  The Major said, “I am sorry Waller. It is too late for that. You have assaulted a commando. This means a court martial and the glasshouse.”

  He struggled to escape the men who restrained him. “You can’t do that!”

  “It is your own fault and if you continue to make a nuisance of yourself then it will just increase the sentence. Sergeant Johnson, let your corporal take over while you escort Private Waller back to the camp.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “If you don’t mind Major Foster I will go along with Sergeant Johnson. I am not certain that Private Waller has calmed down enough yet.” I saw Red Dean's eyes narrow. He did not trust Waller.

  Waller suddenly feigned a smile and became still. “I am all right Sarn’t Major. Trust me I am calm now. I can see the error of my ways.”

  “Nevertheless you will have an escort.”

  The two of them marched him off down the hill. I did not envy them their task. We went back to our tasks. Waller’s mistakes and his outburst meant there was a long delay but eventually we all retired a safe distance and the four charges set off. I felt sorry for Gordy. This was his first opportunity to impress and his charge had only half destroyed the tool store. I could see his anger. While my section went to look at the results of our handiwork I went to speak to him.

  “You look a little angry, old son.”

  “I told them what to do and they got it wrong!”

  “Then it is your fault.”

  “What?” He looked like I had slapped his face.

  “If you had told them properly then they would have got it right. You know that.”

  He opened his mouth as though he was going to argue with me. Then he nodded. “You are right. I wanted to be the first to finish and I rushed my explanation. I’ll get it right next time.” He looked down at his boots. “Perhaps I am not cut out to be a leader.”

  “Of course you are. We all make mistakes. Just be grateful that you made it here on the training ground. We have weeks here yet. Take it steady and you will be fine.”

  “Thanks, Tom.”

  The Major decided to double down to the camp as it was a little later than we would have liked. Two miles from the camp was a bend in the road and a small copse. Gordy’s section was leading and he suddenly stopped and shouted. I ran, with Major Foster, to join him. We saw, sticking out from under the bush two pairs of feet. Gordy was already moving the bush. As he did so we saw an unconscious Jack Johnson and Troop Sergeant Major bleeding from his side and his hand. Of Private Waller there was no sign! They had been attacked and it did not take Sherlock Holmes to work out who had done it

  Chapter 8

  “Hewitt!”

  “Yes Sarge.”

  “Troop Sergeant Major Dean has been stabbed.”

  Hewitt had grown in confidence since I had made him our medic and he quickly took out his bag. The Major was with the Troop Sergeant Major. “Sergeant Barker, take your section and get to the camp. I want an ambulance as soon as. We will bring the two of them to the camp. It is only two miles.”

  “Yes sir. Right lads! Run!”

  “Sergeant Maguire. Have your section pick up Sergeant Johnson and carry him to the camp.”

  Lieutenant Marsden said, “But he has a head wound.”

  “If you look at his face you can see that he has had his jaw broken. That damned animal did this.”

  Private Hewitt looked up from Sergeant Major Dean. “I have stopped the bleeding sir but I will need to keep the pressure on. If the other lads pick him up we can make it to the camp.”

  “Right. Captain Grenville, you go back to the camp and wait for the ambulance.”

  ”What will you do sir?”

  “The three of us will try to apprehend this man. He is a danger to others not just commandos. Anyone who can overpower these two needs to be approached with care.”

  The Captain nodded, “Right you men," he pointed to six men standing close to Reg, "On three lift. One, two, lift.”

  Major Foster turned to me. “Where do you reckon he would go?”

  “He is not stupid, sir. I think he would get off the road as soon as he could. Too many opportunities for him to be seen. I think he would look for transport.” I pointed to the left. “There See that farm over there? When we came up I am sure I saw an old farm lorry there when we passed it. It isn’t now.”

  “Then let’s go.” He unholstered his Colt. Unlike the sergeants the officers had retained their hand weapons.

  We ran up the track which led to the farmhouse. I was not hopeful. Waller had had more than two hour’s start on us. He would not be anywhere close. The gaping door was ominous. As we entered the hall we saw an old man. He was bleeding from the nose and was lying against the stairs. When he saw our uniforms he recoiled.

  “Don’t worry, sir. We are not here to harm you. Did you see a huge man dressed like us?”

  “Aye the bastard was stealing my lorry. When I shouted at him he came and hit me.” He wiped the blood from his nose. “Next time I take my shotgun!”

  “I am sorry for the attack on you. The man is a deserter. What is the licence plate and make of your vehicle. We will tell the police.”

  “DAF 319; it is a Bean New Era truck. He won’t get far. There’s hardly any petrol in it. I couldn’t get any.”

  “Are you all right sir?”

  “I served in the Great War; of course I am all right. Get the bugger and give him a good hiding for me will you?”

  “We will, sir. Believe you me.”

  We ran down the track and back to the road. We caught up with the men carrying our injured sergeants just four hundred yards from the camp. There was an ambulance there already.

  Major Foster said, “Have the men get their guns. I will ring the police. Waller is our problem. We will catch him.”

  We dumped our bags in the stores and went to the armoury for our guns. When we assembled the Major had finished on the telephone. “They have found the aband
oned lorry. It is near a village called Burras.” He pointed to the two lorries we had. “I want the whole Troop. We will hunt this animal down. We can’t let him loose on the civilian population.”

  I went with Lieutenant Marsden and Major Foster. I drove. It was only half a dozen mile to Burras. Now that he was on foot Waller couldn't get very far; not without stealing another vehicle. As he had discovered to his cost few vehicles had fuel these days. When we reached the village there was an ancient policeman standing next to the vehicle. “One of the locals said that they saw a giant running west. I don’t know where he is going. There’s nothing but fields until Crowan and the only vehicles they have there is Harry George’s tractor.”

  The Major said, “I think he is panicking.” He pointed to the rear of our lorry. "There is some petrol in there. Could you get the vehicle back to the farmer.”

  “Old Fred White?” The Major nodded, “Aye, he’s a good old stick.”

  The Major saw Captain Grenville’s lorry pull up. “Everyone out of the lorries. We go on foot. He is heading across country. I want us to operate as four sections. Captain Grenville you take Lieutenant Marsden and Sergeant Johnson’s section. I will go with Sergeant Barker. Lieutenant Green go with Sergeant Maguire. Keep two hundred yards between each section and if you see any tracks then give a shout.”

  “What do we do if we find him?”

  Lieutenant Marsden’s question was a good one. “Take him if you can but I want no one to take any chances. He has burned his bridges. I want him taken or dead!”

  I knew my section. “Polly take the left and Ken the right. Harry and George in the middle with me. The rest of you fill in the gaps. Ten yards between each man.” I had my Thompson slung over my shoulder. I would use the Colt. We began to trot west. He had a head start but not as much as he had had before. Then we had not known where he was heading. I knew he could turn off the track but I doubted that he would. He would try to put as much daylight between us as he could. He was a fit lad and he would run and run. Darkness began to fall and I prayed that the Major would not call off the search. Waller was a good commando but he was a big man. He would not find it easy to hide. We kept going. There were many false alarms.

  At the back of my mind was the thought that he would need food and water. He could keep going but without food and water he would make bad decisions and mistakes. We had passed Crowan and were approaching Leedstown when I heard a shot and a shout from the right. That was where Jack Johnson’s section was. I ran towards the noise. The field through which we ran had been recently ploughed. My men waited for me to reach Ken Curtis. “Did you see anything?”

  “I saw a flash just yonder.”

  “Keep the lads low and follow me.”

  I ran half crouched with my Colt cocked and ready. I saw Waller. He had Captain Grenville. I could see that the captain’s head was bleeding. They were in front of a tree and Waller had the Captain’s Colt to his temple.

  “Take another step and he is dead.”

  “Drop it Waller! We have you surrounded.”

  “Is that you Harsker? You must be mental! If I surrender it is the hangman for me. I might as well shoot this bastard. So don’t push me.”

  “Waller, I am giving you one chance to surrender.”

  He suddenly fired two shots blindly. I heard a shout as he hit someone. Waller laughed, “I hope that was you, Harsker.”

  I levelled the Colt. Waller had placed his head as close as he could get to the Captain’s. “Last chance Waller!”

  “Bugger…”

  That was all he got. I fired two quick shots and the side of his skull exploded showering Captain Grenville in blood, bones and brains. Waller's body fell to the ground. He was dead. I found that my hand was shaking. This was the first time I had shot someone who was not in enemy uniform. Everyone seemed frozen in time. Suddenly the silence was shattered by Captain Grenville’s voice, screaming, “You damned fool Harsker! You could have shot me!”

  Major Foster’s voice, in contrast was calm, “But he didn’t. Good shot Harsker. Who is injured?”

  “Private Briggs sir. His arm was clipped.”

  “Get him some medical attention eh? Sergeant Maguire, have six men pick up Waller’s body. We’ll take it back to Burras. Well done men. If he had escaped this might have become ugly.”

  We turned and headed back to Burras. Lieutenant Marsden walked next to me. “Will I be in bother for this, sir?”

  “Bother, Harsker?”

  “I shot a British soldier!”

  “You shot a dangerous criminal who had already tried to kill four people. There will be an enquiry but I think the enquiry will concentrate on what led up to this. You had nothing to do with any of that.”

  I lowered my voice, “And what about Captain Grenville? He seemed awfully upset.”

  “I am certain that the captain will thank you once he has calmed down. It must have been a shock to him. You did well Tom. You have nothing with which to reproach yourself.”

  The policeman was still at Burras trying to start the old lorry. He seemed relieved when we arrived. Major Foster handled the whole situation as though he was born to it. "Sergeant Barker see if you can get the truck started. We have shot the deserter, Constable. He tried to shoot one of my officers. We will take the body back with us. This is a military matter now.”

  The Constable seemed relieved, “Thank you Major. I could do without the paperwork and folks hereabouts will be glad that the danger is passed. It is bad enough worrying about German soldiers attacking us without our own lads doing it.” Although there was no malice in his words they struck to the heart of me. He was right and this should not have happened.

  We had a late start the following day. The Major told us all to get in by eleven. I was still up early. I had found sleep difficult. My dreams were haunted by Waller’s face exploding before me. It was the first killing which had bothered me. I went down to the harbour to watch the waves. The sea had a soothing effect on me. Perhaps that was why I had found the submarine so hard to take. I could not see the sea. It helped to clear my head and I headed back to the camp.

  The Major and Lieutenant Marsden were in the office. “Ah Harsker, glad you came in early. Headquarters want a witness statement from you. Fill in all the details you can about the events leading up to the incident and including the moment you were forced to shoot him.” He smiled, “By the way they were two damned fine shots!”

  “Right sir. How are Jack and the Troop Sergeant Major?”

  “The hospital telephoned. Troop Sergeant Major Dean is still critical but Sergeant Johnson has had his jaw wired and he is being released later on today. If you take the lorry down at two o’clock he should be ready after the doctor’s rounds.”

  “Right sir. And Captain Grenville?”

  The two officers looked at each other, “Er Captain Grenville is on leave. We all felt that he needed some time after the traumatic events of last night.”

  I wrote my report. I didn’t know it at the time, none of us did, but Captain Grenville asked for and was granted a transfer to another Troop. It was felt it was in the best interest of the whole service. I for one was happy. He had affected the whole Troop adversely.

  Gordy came with me to pick up Jack from the hospital. His face looked swollen and painful. He could not speak and the doctor told us that he had to have rest for at least a fortnight. Jack’s eyes told me that was one order he would be disobeying. We had a list of instructions for our own doctor and medics. Promising that we would obey we took Jack to the lorry. He sat in the front between Gordy and me.

  Gordy told him what had happened and when he said I had shot Waller Jack patted my knee in gratitude. Jack had a notepad and pencil with him and he wrote down what he wanted to say. Gordy read it out.

  “Waller suddenly doubled up as though he was in pain on the way down the hill. When Jack went to help him he was hit in the face and that is all he remembers.”

  I nodded, “We didn’t take Walle
r’s dagger from him. It is not hard to work out the rest. We know that Waller was fast. Even if Reg was expecting something he would expect to be thumped and not knifed. He had cuts to his hands. They sound like defensive wounds to me. I hope Reg is all right. The Troop needs him.”

  Gordy said, “I reckon he will be more embarrassed than anything else.”

  “I think you are right.”

  The excitement of the previous day had upset our plans. We were now an officer, a Troop Sergeant Major and a sergeant down. The Major wrote that day off. He sent half a section to relieve the sentries at the mine. He called in the officers and all the NCOs to his office. “We have some serious work to do. Waller’s action has the potential to destroy this Troop. You chaps have to make sure it doesn’t.”

  Gordy said, “Sir I think it is the opposite. The lads are angry with Waller. I think they think the privates have let us down. That’s what my section said on the way back yesterday. They are determined to be even better in the future.”

  “Gordy may be right, sir. If we look too deeply into this it may cause us problems. I mean, we are a tighter unit now, no disrespect to Captain Grenville, but as long as he isn’t here that bit of grit is not gumming up the works is it, sir?”

  “I am not certain that Captain Grenville would appreciate being called a bit of grit, Sergeant Harsker.”

  “Sorry sir, I was out of line. But all I wanted to say was that we just need to train as though yesterday didn’t happen.”

  Everyone, including Jack nodded. I saw the pain it caused Jack. He would never forget the previous day.

  We were back at the mine the next day. The shifts of sentries had tidied up the mine site. Commandos were, by their nature, tidy soldiers. We left no trail unless we had to. The Major had decided that we would plan and practise assaulting the mine as though it was in enemy hands. We were each given a section to attack. The first time we did it the men were in high spirits for the attack went well.

  The Major gathered us around. “Excellent men. I wish that every attack went that way. I think we would all fancy attacking an enemy target with no sentries.” I saw the crestfallen looks on their faces. “Sergeant Harsker have your section pick up some staves.” There had been some barrels which we had blown up. The sentries had placed the surviving staves in a pile.

 

‹ Prev