Only much, much later, am I able to track down the words.
Out of the day and out of the night
My dear little joy has taken flight.
Spring and summer and winter hoar
My heart moves with grief, and delights no more.
Oh never more.
CHAPTER 7
‘Fucking mines everywhere, son. Sappers clear ’em best they can during the day; Jerry buries a load more every night. That’s why afternoon’s safest for driving. Don’t for fuck’s sake drive anywhere first thing in the morning.’
‘I won’t, Sergeant.’
‘You a driver then, son?’
‘No, I’m, well, I’m a runner.’
‘Well, don’t run anywhere in the morning!’
‘No, Sergeant.’
‘What unit?’
‘2nd Parachute Battalion.’
‘Fucking nutters. I seen ’em in action. That screaming they do, wahoo something, what’s that about?’
‘Waho Mohammed?’
‘That’s the one. What’s it mean?’
‘It, um, well, it doesn’t mean anything. It’s a sort of battle cry.’
‘Fucking weird one if you ask me.’
‘We did a lot of walking. On our last op. The local people would watch us from the hilltops and shout messages to each other. It sounded like “Waho Mohammed”. Our men copied it and—’
‘FUCK!’ The sergeant wrenched at the wheel, skidding the ambulance to a halt. ‘There, look at that!’
Rubbing his eyes, Theo peered through the windscreen. The road stretched ahead, the dirt rusty red, a muddy river ran alongside, while thick woodland rose steeply to either side. Overhead misty clouds filled the slash of sky visible between the trees. ‘Sorry, I...’
‘There! Where the dirt’s been disturbed!’
A slight discoloration, as though a damp patch had been smoothed over. Nothing more. ‘Yes, I see it now.’
‘That’s a fucking mine! See and remember, son, if you want to stay alive.’
Cursing volubly, the sergeant eased the ambulance into gear and manoeuvred carefully around. ‘Fucking mines. Worse than fucking Stukas.’ He glanced at Theo. ‘Ashford. He one of yours? A major, I think.’
‘Major Ashford? Yes, he’s our A Company commander.’
‘Killed by a mine last week. Another one, a captain. Moore?’
‘I don’t...’
‘Killed by a mine last week. Stephenson, or was it Stephens, can’t remember...’
The list went on. Theo sat in the cab, his mind a bleary daze. Major Ashford. Another stalwart. Gone. After all he’d done to save A Company at Sidi Bou: it didn’t seem possible. The lorry lurched and the sergeant cursed. He was from 16th (Parachute) Field Ambulance, which was positioned close to 2nd Battalion, on a road near a town called Sedjenane. That’s all Theo knew, except that Sedjenane was in the north of Tunisia, near the sea and somewhere east of Beja. Where he’d arrived only yesterday after two days on the road with no sleep and a bad headache. It was early March, two weeks after his trip to Gabès and the interview with von Stauffenberg. Major Yale wanted him to stay on in Algiers: ‘You’ve the makings of a useful operative, Trickey.’ But 2nd Battalion was back in the thick of it, and he wanted to rejoin it. So did Colonel Frost. A tussle ensued. Frost won.
Rounding a bend they arrived at the huddle of tents which was 16th Field Ambulance. Red Cross flags fluttered, medics in aprons moved purposefully, walking wounded stood about smoking, while more seriously injured lay on stretchers, some of them unmoving. To one side, a row of humps in freshly turned soil signified graves. As he jumped wearily from the cab, Theo could hear the sound of gunfire echoing around the valley.
‘Up to the right, son.’ The sergeant pointed. ‘Follow that yellow tape through the trees and it’ll bring you to your lads. But keep your head down, plenty of Jerry about.’
‘Yes, Sergeant.’
‘And watch out for fucking mines!’
‘I will. And thanks for the lift.’
Hefting his rifle and rucksack he set off, following the tape and the noise of shooting which grew louder as he went. Ten minutes further and he was back with his battalion. Not that he knew it from the welcome.
‘Who’s this one then, all clean and shiny!’
‘Another wet-behind-the-ears straight from Ringway.’
‘Does Mother know you’re out, dearie?’
‘Hold on, lads. That’s Trickey, ain’t it?’
‘Who?’
‘Trickey, you pillock, he’s practically a legend.’
‘Never ’eard of him.’
‘Watch out, here comes the colonel!’
A familiar figure appeared, tall, mustachioed, striding towards him across the clearing. Theo dropped his pack and saluted.
‘Hello, sir.’
Frost’s hand was outstretched. ‘Good to have you back.’
Another ten dizzying minutes later and he was sitting at Battalion HQ being briefed. Frost’s command post was beside the road, in thick woodland at the bottom of a steep hill. It consisted of a tent, with table for maps and radios, an armed protection unit, his new adjutant Willoughby, and about a dozen signallers, radio operators and clerks. Adjacent to the road was a railway, beyond that the river, beyond that rose another hill. As Frost spoke, the gunfire sounds, including mortars and machine guns, could be heard in all directions.
‘Because we’re all here, Theo,’ he explained. ‘All three battalions, first time ever in the brigade’s history. How about that?’
‘Rather, um, momentous, sir?’
‘Too true.’
And their mission, he went on, was equally momentous. ‘Repulse the enemy, and that’s it.’ He pointed down the road. ‘They’re bottled up around Tunis and desperate to break out. This road is their only route west, and we’re to stop them using it. If we succeed, and with Monty due to link up with 1st Army down south, then it’s pretty much stumps for Jerry in Africa. So we’ve got 1st and 2nd Battalions here on this side of the road, and 3rd Battalion dug in opposite. Jerry’s got at least a division in Sedjenane, crack troops too, including our old friends from 10th Panzer. Plus they’ve got mobile armour, heavy artillery, air cover, the lot. And tanks, the usual Panzers, and these new Tiger monsters. They’ve been softening us up with probing raids for a couple of days; we’re expecting a concerted effort any time. Probably tomorrow. Got all that?’
‘Got it, sir.’
‘Good. Now, I want you back in your old job. These trees provide good cover but I can’t see anything – especially what’s going on up the hill. Radios are working, more or less, but we don’t have many, and the brigadier wants constant updates, so you’re my eyes and ears on the ground: liaison, communications, situation reports, enemy movements, casualties and so on. Translating too, we’ve local muleteers for transport, and we’re already collecting prisoners, so make sure you question them and report any gen.’
‘Yes, sir. Um, who am I reporting it to?’
‘To me. We’ve a lot of new faces here, as you’ve probably gathered, and many of them are pretty green.’ He smiled. ‘I need people I can depend on.’
Theo spent a restless night in a hip-scrape in the trees. Sleep eluded him, his headache nagged, and the bombardment went on late, enlivened by a lone Stuka attack and a half-hearted attack on 3rd Battalion, which was vigorously repelled. Eventually all fell quiet, save for the popping of star shells, punctuating the night like a clock counting down the hours.
At eight the following morning, duly washed and breakfasted, he was at the command post meeting new staff, when a deafening shriek split the air, followed by the ground-shaking thunder of explosions up the hill. Seconds more and the artillery barrage was in full swing. ‘Positions!’ Frost shouted, and everyone scattered to their units. Steel helmet strapped tight, Theo waited at the CP, crouching on one knee and listening as the bombardment unfolded. It was heavy, yet removed, and he soon sensed the main target wasn’t the hill,
but its eastern flank. There the enemy’s infantry would be assembling, ready to follow the barrage as it crept slowly upward. Sure enough garbled messages were soon arriving from A Company, which was defending that flank, reporting that they were under attack. ‘But don’t worry,’ John Lane, their new CO radioed, ‘we’re quite all right.’ Two hours later he radioed again to say A Company was surrounded. Then contact was lost.
‘Get up there.’ Frost scribbled notes. ‘C Company’s above them, see if Ross can help. And take an ammunition mule with you: they’ll be running low.’
The mules were corralled in a railway culvert, their drivers visibly recoiling as Theo ran up. He selected one at random, summoning him forward in Arabic. As they ascended through the trees the noise of gunfire drew nearer, familiar Bren and Vickers sounds mixed with the thump of mortar and distant rattle of German machine guns. Tree-limbs occasionally splintered overhead, showering them with twigs and leaves, while tendrils of smoke drifted eerily through the trees. Then with a crash an oak tree jumped and fell sideways ten yards away; he ducked, only to glimpse the mule driver fleeing downhill, leaving his startled animal behind. Grabbing the rein he began dragging it upwards. A few minutes later he stumbled into a clearing.
‘Who the fuck are you?’
A foxhole lay at his feet, two Paras concealed within.
‘Trickey, CP runner,’ he panted, glancing round. Now he could see them: camouflaged figures prone in the dirt, crouching behind trees or lying in dug-outs. ‘Are you C Company?’
‘Bloody right. Hold on.’ The man raised his rifle, squinted along the sights, then fired a single round. ‘Missed, fuck it.’
The mule flinched, jerking Theo’s arm. ‘The enemy’s coming up here already?’
‘Not if I can help it.’
‘Hello there.’ An officer sauntered up. Theo recognized him from Oudna, the night of Sidi Bou. Lieutenant Spender, the surviving platoon commander from C Company. ‘Trickey, isn’t it? I see you’ve brought ammo, you splendid chap.’
‘Oh, um, yes. It’s for A Company. They’re hard pressed.’
‘Is that so?’ Spender smiled. He produced a cigarette case and lit up. His beret was askew, his piccolo poked from a breast pocket, a sprig of heather adorned his lapel and, save for the dagger on his thigh, he was completely unarmed. ‘Ciggie?’
‘No thank you.’
Spender examined the case. ‘My sister gave it to me, before we left for Greenock. Charming, no?’
‘Very nice. Sir, could I—’
‘Do you have sisters?’
A fleeting image came, unbidden, of a little girl on a Stepney doorstep, her cheek smudged with green. Are you coming back?
‘Well, yes I do. A half-sister.’
‘How delightful. What’s her name?’
‘Nancy.’ The mule tugged his arm. ‘Um, is Major Ross here?’
‘He’s down there, trying—’
‘DOWN!’ The deafening crash of a mortar shell, then several more in quick succession, erupting round the clearing like geysers. Earth spurted, trees split, dirt and rocks flew high, to fall pattering to the ground like rain. Theo crouched down, still holding the mule, which strained and bucked in panic. Then a hand joined his on the rein; he glanced up and saw Spender calmly steadying the animal, as though a donkey at the seaside. Then the shelling stopped, and the Paras were scrambling to their feet, and shooting furiously back.
‘That’ll do!’ Spender waved. ‘Cease fire, chaps, save the ammunition.’ The shooting petered out. ‘Well done, everyone. Any hurt?’
Heads were counted, limbs checked and weapons reloaded. Spender brushed dirt from his beret. ‘Right, back under cover, all you chaps. Trickey, you come with me.’
They set off downhill, pulling the mule behind. Soon the trees were thinning, and then they came to a ridge; beyond it the view was wide open, down and across the valley far below. Overhead the sky churned with rain clouds; beneath it, more than a mile away, tiny figures crept across the skyline. Still gripping the mule, Theo fumbled for his binoculars.
‘Panzer Grenadiers,’ Spender murmured. ‘Formidable chaps.’
‘Where’s Major Ross?’
‘Down here to the left.’ He pointed. ‘And A Company’s just below him, along the ridge in that copse, see?’
‘Yes, I see. I must get this mule to him.’ He tugged on the rein.
Spender grabbed his arm. ‘Admirable intention, old thing, but not really practicable. Jerry everywhere, you see. Worming round behind A Company, creeping through trees, lurking in the bushes, not many but enough to give us trouble – as you’ve just witnessed. They’ve also been plastering A Company pretty hard. Wander out there in the open and you’d not get ten yards.’
‘But—’
‘It’s all right – I’ll see Ross gets the ammo. Meantime you should report to the colonel. Now, see that peak, about three miles distant? The one with all the smoke.’
‘Yes.’
‘1st Battalion. They’re catching it too.’
‘And the enemy’s trying to get between them and us?’
‘Precisely, so be sure to let him know. Although that’s the brigadier’s problem. Ours is holding this hill. So tell Frost we’re doing what we can for A Company. Tell him Jerry’s getting in among our positions but we’re not budging. Tell him we’re fine but could do with more ammo.’
‘Yes. I will.’
‘And be sure to give him my compliments.’
Theo descended to the CP, but was soon on his way up again, this time to B Company, which Frost wanted to move east. On the next trip he successfully coaxed two ammunition mules up to the summit, where a machine-gun position overlooked the ridge held by the German grenadiers. As he watched, panting and dizzy, the gunners reloaded their weapons, then opened fire at maximum range. Seconds later they observed dust puffs where their shots fell, followed by a scattering of the men on the ridge, like confused ants. ‘That should shut ’em up for a bit!’ the gunner quipped. On the way down he collected a stretcher party and several walking wounded whom he led to the dressing station. There he observed many new casualties, including four killed. He also interviewed two enemy prisoners, infantrymen, both lightly injured.
‘May I know your unit?’ he asked in German.
‘27th Schützen, of course,’ one retorted. ‘Attached to 10th Panzer, who will destroy you this day.’
The second prisoner, bloody head bandaged, seemed less assured. ‘We weren’t told we’d be fighting you,’ he muttered.
‘Fighting who?’
‘Die roten Teufel.’
The red devils. He’d never heard the expression, noted it down, took a few more details and headed back to the CP. Parched and perspiring, he gratefully accepted tea from an orderly, but before he could drink, a throaty roar turned everyone’s heads. A moment later two Messerschmitts appeared, thundering up the road towards them, guns blazing. Bullets smacked into rock, dirt spurted, splinters flew, and everyone dived for cover. Weapons were grabbed; snatching up his rifle Theo glimpsed Frost, standing in the open, calmly shooting his service pistol at the aircraft. Seconds later they were gone and uneasy silence descended once more.
The day dragged on; he toiled up and down, pain and fever spreading through his body like poison. And with every passing hour the plague of enemy encroachment also spread. Fighting continued, mostly on the hill’s eastern flank where A and C Companies bore the brunt, yet increasingly elsewhere too, often in penny packets, with individuals leaping on each other from behind rocks, or springing from bushes, daggers and bayonets flashing. 2nd Battalion dug in and held on. Repeatedly the Germans probed forward; repeatedly they were repulsed. After each clash came a pause to withdraw and lick wounds. And get messages to HQ: ‘Still here, still holding.’ ‘Losses heavy but manageable.’ ‘Enemy attacking on all sides.’ Their fighting was dogged, their defence heroic, but with an armoured division against an infantry brigade, defeat inevitably loomed, and steadily the Paras lost ground. Down at
the CP Frost and his team struggled to keep track. Quite apart from Frost’s own situation, news from the other two battalions was equally ominous, with 3rd under pressure, and 1st completely encircled. Yet he was impotent to help, and had emergencies of his own.
Returning from a sortie, Theo slumped dizzily to the ground. But ammunition was still needed up the hill so Frost’s adjutant, Willoughby, desperate to do something, loaded a mule and set off. Within minutes he was lost, stumbled into the enemy and was shot dead. Only the muleteer returned to recount the tale.
‘Jesus.’ Frost shook his head. Oudna, Sidi Bou, the piecemeal destruction of his battalion: the nightmare was repeating itself.
Theo struggled to his feet once more. ‘I’ll go.’
Frost stared into the trees. ‘I so hate being stuck down here.’
‘They need the ammunition.’
Still Frost hesitated. ‘All right, yes, but listen. Tell Lane, tell Ross, they’ve just got to hang on until dusk. If they can do that, then there’s a chance. Tell them I’m speaking to the brigadier right now.’
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