by Iain Maloney
‘I’m telling you,’ I said. ‘Canvas and wood are no good to make an aeroplane.’
Luckily Thor was the first officer on the scene, not The Face. Thor agreed with Terry’s assessment of our work but understood that realistically there was nothing we could’ve done to prevent it. The Face would’ve torn a strip off us, had us cleaning the runway with a toothbrush, but Thor outranked him, so he had to settle for barked orders and a general demeanour of anger. Everybody was grounded for a few days while they repaired the planes they could and replaced the others.
Now there was no hope of flight for a while, the military swung into action devising ways to fill our time. A competition was organised with a local Home Guard unit. Us twelve against twelve of them, capture the flag over a decent expanse of the Wiltshire countryside. ‘Your mission,’ said Captain Duncanson of the Home Guard, briefing us, ‘is to find and capture the flag that my men will be defending. The rules are simple and they’d have to be for you RAF types to understand. The flag is in one fixed location, guarded by my men. You must find it, secure it and return it to your commanding officer by any lawful means necessary. The area is defined by these landmarks,’ he pointed to a map. ‘You must remain within these boundaries. If you stray over a frontier, you are deemed to be dead and may take no further part. If you die, you must return here immediately. If someone points their rifle at you and says bang, you are dead. If you point your rifle at someone and say bang, they are dead. If you point your rifle and don’t say bang, no-one dies. If you say bang without pointing your rifle, no-one dies. Once you are all dead, or you have the flag, the mission is over. Any questions?’
‘Sir,’ said Terry. ‘What happens if I point my rifle and someone else says bang?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Sir,’ said Joe. ‘What happens if one of your men points his rifle at me but I say bang?’
‘Nothing. Now—’
‘Sir,’ I said. ‘What happens if I point my gun at someone and they point their gun at me and we both say bang at the same time?’
‘You’re both dead. Now—’
‘Sir,’ said Doug. ‘What happens if I point my rifle at myself and say bang?’
‘You get court-martialed. Suicide is not an option during war. Now stop asking stupid questions. The mission will begin at zero hundred hours tonight.’
‘Sir,’ said Terry.
‘What is it?’
‘Is there a time limit?’
‘You have twenty-four hours.’
We waited until his back was turned then pointed our rifles at him and said bang.
We sat in the mess drinking weak milky tea, plotting. We decided to split the twelve of us into our guard groups and each try to take the flag individually, cover more ground that way. On the table Doug, the brains of the operation, had placed a map, the game area divided into thirds. ‘Start and end at midnight,’ I said. ‘The darkness will be the best time for us. Four men can hide much more effectively in the dark than twelve.’
‘Hiding isn’t an option,’ said Terry. ‘They stay still. We have to find them.’
‘If they’re even in our sector,’ said Doug.
‘If they’re not, this is just going to be a decent walk in the country,’ I said.
‘Good point.’
‘Jack’s right,’ said Joe. ‘We’ve a much better chance of sneaking up on them while it’s dark.’
‘Look at the map,’ I said. ‘These two areas are wooded, along the riverside is open. Open land is much more dangerous during the day, so I say we work our way along the river, cover half the exposed land from zero hundred until dawn, stick to the woodland while it’s light—’
‘Find somewhere sheltered, have a kip,’ said Terry.
‘Good thinking,’ said Joe. ‘And finish the rest of the riverbank after sunset.’
‘Sunrise is about half past five, sunset just before nine,’ said Doug. So we prepared. Rations, binoculars, whatever we thought we’d need. At zero hundred Thor sent us off with the words, ‘do us proud, lads.’
Our sector was the farthest from the camp. All twelve of us left together, Danny’s group breaking off first, cutting across a fallow field. Then Chalky’s lot, ducking off the road into the forest. It was a dark night, the moon frequently behind cloud banks. We walked in silence. After forty minutes we reached the bridge that marked the beginning of our sector. We climbed down and took shelter under the stone arch, one final check before the hunt began.
‘Last smoke until dawn,’ Terry said, lighting up, hand cupped over the end. ‘Won’t be seen under the bridge.’
In the brief flare of the match I noticed something. ‘Where’s Joe?’
He wasn’t there.
‘Was he with us all the way?’
‘I thought so,’ whispered Doug. ‘He was at the back. Definitely behind me when Chalky’s group broke off.’
‘And after that?’
‘I don’t know. Once we were in the trees it was too dark to see. I could make you out in front of me, Jack, just, but I couldn’t even see Terry up front.’
‘Hold on,’ I said. I climbed out from under the bridge and raised my head above the stonework, waited until the moon came out. The road was empty.
‘Joe?’ I hissed. Nothing. Back down. ‘He’s not there.’
‘Oh, fuck,’ said Terry.
‘Do you think we lost him?’ said Doug. I looked at Terry.
‘No,’ Terry said. ‘He went with Chalky’s lot.’
‘With Chalky’s lot? Why?’ said Doug.
‘Clive,’ I said. Joe was technically AWOL. All we could do was go on with the mission and hope he showed before midnight.
We covered a lot of ground quickly, although we couldn’t make out much. We’d have to stand on top of the flag before we could see it. No sign of Joe either. Spread out, talking only when necessary, we swept half the riverbank then worked our way towards the tree line, reaching it as the sun came up. Exhausted, we found a secluded spot and crashed down. Nibbling at our rations, we spread the map out, marked off what we’d done.
‘How long do you reckon to do the forest?’ said Terry.
‘About six hours,’ I said. Doug nodded agreement.
‘Fine,’ said Terry. ‘Let’s get some kip, set off again at ten, rest again at four, final search after dark.’
‘I’ll take first watch,’ I said. ‘An hour then change?’
‘Do we need a guard?’ said Doug. ‘We’re looking for them, not the other way around.’
‘If I were in charge of the defence,’ said Terry, ‘with a dozen men just sitting around, I’d send out scout groups.’
‘Fair enough,’ said Doug. ‘I’ll go next. See you in an hour.’
They settled down, I looked around for a good guard position. The forest was pretty dense, visibility a couple of metres at best. I found a likely tree, climbed up. Much better. I could see along the river, across the open land. If anyone came through the forest they’d be on us before I saw them. Nothing I could do about that. At least this way I could narrow down the possibilities. I took a sip from my canteen, lit a fag. It’d been a long night and I could do with some sleep, but the rule for guard duty was the same as Terry’s rule for buying beer: be the first, then it’s done and you can relax. I checked my watch. Nearly seven. Time to climb down, take a quick scan of the area then wake up Doug. As I shifted my weight, lowered my leg to the next branch, something caught my eye. I froze, but the tree swayed. I prayed it looked like wind. It was a man walking across the open land between us and the river. He was coming in our direction, not straight for us, but near enough. Moving gently, I got the binoculars out. Joe. Strolling along, rifle slung over his shoulder like a pick axe. I checked all around but couldn’t see anyone else. If they were close, they’d see him, but maybe we’d get lucky, maybe they were nowhere near. I climbed down, picked up my rifle and made my way to the tree line. I stepped out for a moment. He saw me, I darted back into the trees. He changed his direction, saunt
ered over.
‘Morning, Jack. Any tea on the go?’
‘Where the fuck have you been?’
‘Oh, took a wrong turn. Had tae wait until it was light tae find you. I don’t have the map, you see.’
His smile, smug grin, clearly lying. I wasn’t going to push it though. I was tired. ‘Come on, we’re through here.’
I was about to wake Doug for his watch, when a thought occurred. ‘What did you do while you were lost?’
‘Nothing, why?’
‘Just curious. Did you, say, move around? Do anything?’
He was trying to see what I was driving at. Obviously he’d done something, didn’t know what I knew.
‘No, nothing.’
‘Good, so you’re well rested then. We’ve been searching this area all night and are knackered. You can take the watch until ten.’
I didn’t wait for an answer. I thought he’d argue, so I just lay down, put my cap over my face. Spark of a match, footsteps.
Doug shook me awake. At first I was groggy, lost, thought I might be back home, the forest behind the house in Inverayne, then I remembered. Doug packed up his rations and got ready to leave. Joe and Terry were both sitting on fallen trunks, smoking. Neither was looking at the other. ‘Do you need to eat anything?’ said Doug.
‘No, I’m fine,’ I said. ‘Let me take a piss and we can get going.’
I had to keep reminding myself this was an actual military exercise. It felt so much like playing manhunt back home. Dod and I both had our tactics. He liked to stay low: ditches, shrubs, ground-brushing trees. There were a few places where a seemingly solid wall of rhododendron bushes were thin enough to pass through. I knew most of them, Dod knew them all. He could appear beside you like a ghost, disappear just as easily. Height was my friend. Smaller, lighter than Dod, I’d learned to move around amongst the top branches. A dense forest, much like this one, with intertwining limbs, I and the wee lads following me could cross huge sections of woodland without ever touching the ground. No chance of those tactics in Wiltshire. I’d grown a lot since those days, and Dod’s game plan seemed more suitable. We swept through, tree to tree, stopping, listening, signalling with hand gestures. When we set off from the camp, Terry was withdrawn, one of his cynical moods, Joe no doubt. The Swindon road was our first check point, and we reached it without incident, cut south a couple of hundred metres and began to make our way back to the river. This criss-crossing of the forest meant we could be reasonably sure to have covered the whole area and end up precisely where we needed to be at sundown. Once we were clear of the road, we stopped for a rest. I sat with my back against a sycamore, ran my hand down the bark, rough and warm, thought of the oak in the big field back home, thought of sitting on the bough blowing soft jazz into the sunset after a hard day at it. Doug rubbed at his neck. Joe stood next to me, ripped a plate of bark clean off, whitish-green underneath. Got his knife out and began carving. ‘Why are you doing that?’ said Doug. ‘That tree never did anything to you.’
‘Just a fucking tree. No a fucking human being.’
‘What’s No Pasaran?’ I said. Joe had carved it into the tree.
‘Spanish,’ he said. ‘No Pasaran. They shall not pass.’
‘I didn’t know you could speak Spanish,’ I said.
‘Ah cannae, just that.’ Slipped his hand into his pocket where the scrap of flag Alec had given him was. ‘No Pasaran,’ he said again, quietly.
‘You’re a fucking nutter, mate,’ said Terry.
‘Fuck off.’
‘Fine, you’re not a nutter. So where did you go this morning?’
‘I told you. I got lost.’
‘Just happened to get lost at the same time as Clive. A total coincidence.’
‘Watch it, Taffy,’ said Joe, the knife still in his hand.
‘Why? You going to stab me? That what you did to Clive?’
‘Last warning.’
‘No, your last warning. If we get back and anything’s happened to Clive. I’ll be the first to turn you in.’
‘You turn me in for anything and I’ll do you in, is that clear?’
‘Boys,’ I said. ‘Keep the voices down. We’re supposed to be on a mission here.’
‘On a mission, Christ sake, Jack,’ said Terry. ‘It’s not important.’
‘Aye, that’s you, Taffy,’ said Joe. ‘Nothing’s important, not us, not the war, not anything but yourself.’
‘And you’re so different?’
This was going to escalate.
‘Right,’ I said. ‘Enough. Let’s get moving, sweep the forest and get to the next rest spot and wait for darkness. Standing here fighting is just stupid. Let’s go.’
‘Fuck off, Jack,’ said Terry.
‘Aye, fuck off, Jack,’ said Joe. I shook my head, started walking. They followed.
We found nothing in the forest, and were pretty sure our sector was empty. A waste of time. I realised we had no way of contacting the other groups. If we found the flag it would be twelve against four. The other eight were effectively out of the game. Splitting into groups when we were all hunting the same target was really bad planning. Was that Thor’s teaching technique at work? Letting us fail by ourselves, allowing us to make mistakes in order to learn from them? We should’ve asked his advice. We still had one area to check, the second half of the river. ‘Christ, I need a drink,’ said Joe.
Night. We made quick work of it. Nothing. We crossed the river into Chalky’s area. It was only twenty-two thirty hours, still an hour and a half. ‘Let’s cut across country,’ said Doug. ‘Make our way back to the base through the mission zone. You never know, we might find something.’
We’d all much rather have walked along the road than across fields, but Doug was right. We couldn’t pack it in early and I couldn’t be arsed hanging around waiting yet again. It was as good as over, though. No-one checked the map, we just kept trudging south, not trying to mask our sounds. Joe had a fag and no-one bothered to stop him. Beyond the last field lay another wooded area. As we approached a sudden voice: ‘BANG!’ Three figures stepped out, rifles raised. For a moment I panicked that we’d been mistaken for paratroopers and would be shot, then I realised they wouldn’t say ‘bang’. ‘Oh, fuck off,’ said Terry.
‘Got you. Never light up at night, matey, gives you clean away.’
‘What dae you think you’re playing at you stupid English cunt! You could’ve given us all heart attacks. What you daein running round in the dark with a gun for anyway? Don’t you know there’s a war on?’ Joe was squaring up, but Terry spoke first.
‘Hold up a minute,’ he said. ‘You said “BANG!”’
‘What you babbling about?’ said Joe.
‘I did,’ said the Englishman. ‘Who did you say it at?’
‘This one here, the short fighty one.’
‘Thought so,’ Terry said, and ran off into the forest.
‘Come back here you bloody coward!’ shouted Joe. ‘Never run away from a fight. Right, that’s it. When I’m finished with these three, you’re getting it too.’
The three Home Guard looked around, unsure what to do. Should they follow Terry or stay with their prisoners? They had rifles but carried them like they might go off any second. One of them said, ‘So, should we off these two and get after him?’
‘Off us?’ I said. ‘You can’t do that. We’re Prisoners of War. Only he’s dead,’ I gestured at Joe. ‘For him, the war is over, so he can go back to base. But you have to take us with you to your base. We’re POWs until zero hundred hours, until the exercise is over.’
‘Fuck off,’ said one. ‘Take you back to base? Think we’re daft?’
‘If you shoot prisoners during this mission, we’ll report it.’
‘Balls,’ said the third. ‘He’s right. Fine, let’s go and no funny business.’
We left Joe to make his own way home, but I guessed Terry wouldn’t be too far away. If he had any sense he’d have gone about ten metres into the trees and then hi
dden. Doug and I crashed our way through the undergrowth making as much noise as possible. Maybe he could follow us and get the flag. ‘Will you two fucking stop that,’ one of our captors said.
‘What you going to do? Geneva Conventions, lads,’ I said. ‘We’re untouchable.’
‘Listen, pal, even under the Geneva Conventions I can still give you a clout round the head and claim it was a branch. Now shut up.’
Of course, we didn’t. Soon we came to the defence base. Sure enough, we’d wasted a day: It was right in Chalky’s sector. I wondered if they’d been found. Doug and I sat on the ground while the army lads argued about what to do with us. Judging by the amount of people all for offing us, I’d hate to be an actual paratrooper caught in Wiltshire. They finally decided they couldn’t do anything. The scouts set off on another patrol, leaving us with a guard of five. They were positioned around the perimeter, looking out. ‘What time is it?’ I asked Doug. ‘Quiet, you two,’ someone said. We ignored him. He managed to find some moonlight. ‘Twenty-three twenty-seven.’
‘Almost there. Can’t wait for my bed.’
‘You know,’ said Doug. ‘When pilots are captured by the enemy, it is their duty to try and escape. All across Europe men are trying exactly that.’
‘Good point,’ I said. ‘And it would be awful of us to refuse to do our duty.’
The flag was on a pole in centre of the camp, which was set up in a small clearing. It was only a few steps to the trees. The guards were all looking out, and with a bit of luck I could be past them and into the forest before they realised. ‘You grab it,’ said Doug, ‘and run. I’ll get in the way here.’
‘Okay.’
‘Wait… wait… now.’
I ripped the flag from the pole and took off at full speed, cleared one soldier lying like a sniper, jinked behind a tree, then another. I had no idea if I’d been ‘shot’ but I wasn’t stopping to find out. Once enough trees were between me and the base I ducked behind a fallen trunk and listened. Nothing, but any pursuers might have stopped as well. I checked the time. I needed to get moving if I was going to have the flag back at base. Another listen. Nothing. Jogging this time I made my way out of the forest and onto the road. I didn’t have time to go cross-country. I ran down the road, hoping my luck would hold and the night would hide me. No chance.