As the Crow Flies (10 page)

Charlie
found himself mesmerized by the mosaic patterns that covered the inner walls,
their tiny squares making up life-size portraits. He moved slowly round the
perimeter, staring at the seven disciples who had so far survived the ungodly
war.

When
he reached the altar he fell on his knees and bowed his head, a vision of
Father O’Malley coming into his mind. It was then that the bullet flew past
him, hitting the brass cross and sending the crucifix crashing to the ground.
As Charlie dived for cover behind the altar, a second shot went off. He glanced
round the corner of the altar and watched a German officer who had been hit in
the side of the head slump through the curtains and out of a wooden box onto
the stone floor. He must have died instantly.

“I
only ‘ape he ‘ad time to make a full confession,” said Tommy.

Charlie
crawled out from behind the altar.

“For
Gawd’s sake, stay put, you fool, because someone else is in this church and I’ve
got a funny feelin’ it isn’t just the Almighty.” They both heard a movement in
the pulpit above them and Charlie quickly scurried back behind the altar.

“It’s
only me,” said a voice they immediately recognized.

“Who’s
me?” said Tommy, trying not to laugh.

“Captain
Trentham. So whatever you do, don’t fire.”

“Then
show yourself, and come down with your ‘ends above your ‘ead so that we can be
certain you’re who you say you are,” Tommy said, enjoying every moment of his
tormentor’s embarrassment.

Trentham
rose slowly from the top of the pulpit and began to descend the stone steps
with his hands held high above his head. He proceeded down the aisle towards
the fallen cross that now lay in front of the altar, before stepping over the
dead German officer and continuing until he came face to face with Tommy, who
was still holding a pistol pointing straight at his heart.

“Sorry,
sir,” said Tommy, lowering the pistol. “I ‘ad to be sure you weren’t a German.”

“Who
spoke the King’s English,” said Trentham sarcastically.

“You
did warn us against being taken in by that in one of your lectures, sir,” said
Tommy.

“Less
of your lip, Prescott. And how did you get hold of an officer’s pistol?”

“It
belonged to Lieutenant ‘Arvey,” interjected Charlie, “who dropped it when... “

“You
bolted off into the forest,” said Tommy, his eyes never leaving Trentham.

“I
was pursuing two Germans who were attempting to escape.”

“It
looked the other way round to me,” said Tommy. “And when we get back, I intend
to let anyone know who cares to listen.”

“It
would be your word against mine,” said Trentham. “In any case, both Germans are
dead.”

“Only
thanks to me and try not to forget that the corp ‘ere also witnessed everything
what ‘appened.”

“Then
you know my version of the events is the accurate one,” said Trentham, turning
directly to face Charlie.

“All
I know is that we ought to be up in that tower, plannin’ how we get back to our
own lines, and not wastin’ any more time quarrelin’ down ‘ere.”

The
captain nodded his agreement, turnd, ran to the back of the church and up the
stone stairs to the safety of the tower. Charlie quickly followed him. They
both took lookout positions on opposite sides of the roof, and although Charlie
could still hear the sound of the battle he was quite unable to make out who
was getting the better of it on the other side of the forest.

“Where’s
Prescott?” asked Trentham after a few minutes had passed.

“Don’t
know, sir,” said Charlie. “I thought he was just behind me.” It was several
minutes before Tommy, wearing the dead German’s spiked pickelhaube, appeared at
the top of the stone steps.

“Where
have you been?” asked Trentham suspiciously.

“Searchin’
the place from top to bottom in the ‘ope that there might ‘ave been some grub
to be found, but I couldn’t even find any communion wine.”

“Take
your position over there,” said the captain, pointing to an arch that was not
yet covered, “and keep a lookout. We’ll stay put until it’s pitch dark. By then
I’ll have worked out a plan to get us back behind our own lines.”

The
three men stared out across the French countryside as the light turnd first
murky, then gray and finally black.

“Shouldn’t
we be thinkin’ of moving soon, Captain?” asked Charlie, after they had sat in
pitch darkness for over an hour.

“We’ll
go when I’m good and ready,” said Trentham, “and not before.”

“Yes,
sir,” said Charlie, and sat shivering as he continued to stare out into the
darkness for another forty minutes.

“Right,
follow me,” said Trentham without warning. He rose and led them both down the
stone steps, coming to a halt at the entrance to the vestry door. He pulled the
door open slowly. The noise of the hinges sounded to Charlie like a magazine
emptying on a machine-gun. The three of them stared into the night and Charlie
wondered if there was yet another German out there with rifle cocked, waiting.
The captain checked his compass.

“First
we must try to reach the safety of those trees at the top of the ridge,”
Trentham whispered. “Then I’ll work out a route for getting us back behind our
own lines.”

By
the time Charlie’s eyes had become accustomed to the darkness he began to study
the moon and, more important, the movement of the clouds.

“It’s
open ground to those trees,” the captain continued, “so we can’t risk a
crossing until the moon disappears behind some cover. Then we’ll each make a
dash for the ridge separately. So Prescott, when I give the order, you’ll go
first.”

“Me?”
said Tommy.

“Yes,
you, Prescott. Then Corporal Trumper will follow the moment you’ve reached the
trees.”

“And
I suppose you’ll bring up the rear, if we’re lucky enough to survive?” said
Tommy.

“Don’t
be insubordinate with me,” said Trentham. “Or you’ll find this time that you
will be court-martialed and end up in the jail you were originally intended
for.”

“Not
without a witness, I won’t,” said Tommy. “That much of King’s Regulations I do
understand.”

“Shut
up, Tommy,” said Charlie.

They
all waited in silence behind the vestry door until a large shadow moved slowly
across the path and finally enveloped the church all the way to the trees.

“Go!”
said the captain, tapping Prescott on the shoulder. Tommy bolted off like a
greyhound released from the slips, and the two other men watched as he
scampered across the open ground, until some twenty seconds later he reached
the safety of the trees.

The
same hand tapped Charlie on the shoulder a moment later, and off he ran, faster
than he had ever run before, despite having to carry a rifle in one hand and a
pack on his back. The grin didn’t reappear on his face until he had reached
Tommy’s side.

They
both turned to stare in the direction of the captain.

“What
the ‘elf’s he waitin’ for?” said Charlie.

“To
see if we get ourselves killed would be my guess,” said Tommy as the moon came
back out.

They
both waited but said nothing until the circular glow had disappeared behind
another cloud, when finally the captain came scurrying towards them.

He
stopped by their side, leaned against a tree and rested until he had got his
breath back.

“Right,”
he eventually whispered, “we’ll advance slowly down through the forest,
stopping every few yards to listen for the enemy, while at the same time using
the trees for cover. Remember, never move as much as a muscle if the moon is
out, and never speak unless it’s to answer a question put by me.”

The
three of them began to creep slowly down the hill, moving from tree to tree,
but no more than a few yards at a time. Charlie had no idea he could be so
alert to the slightest unfamiliar sound. It took the three of them over an hour
to reach the bottom of the slope, where they came to a halt. All they could see
in front of them was a vast mass of barren open ground.

“No
man’s land,” whispered Trentham. “That means we’ll have to spend the rest of
our time flat on our bellies.” He immediately sank down into the mud. “I’ll
lead,” he said. “Trumper, you’ll follow, and Prescott will bring up the rear.”

“Well,
at least that proves ‘e knows where ‘e’s gain’,” whispered Tommy. “Because ‘e
must ‘ave worked out exactly where the bullets will be comin’ from, and who
they’re likely to ‘it first.”

Slowly,
inch by inch, the three men advanced the half mile across no man’s land,
towards the Allied front line, pressing their faces back down into the mud
whenever the moon reappeared from behind its unreliable screen.

Although
Charlie could always see Trentham in front of him, Tommy was so silent in his
wake that from time to time he had to look back just to be certain his friend
was still there. A grin of flashing white teeth was all he got for his trouble.

During
the first hour the three of them covered a mere hundred yards. Charlie could
have wished for a more cloudy night. Stray bullets flying across their heads
from both trenches ensured that they kept themselves low to the ground. Charlie
found he was continually spitting out mud and once even came face to face with
a German who couldn’t blink.

Another
inch, another foot, another yard on they crawled through the wet, cold mud
across a terrain that still belonged to no man. Suddenly Charlie heard a loud
squeal from behind him. He turned angrily to remonstrate with Tommy, only to
see a rat the size of a rabbit lying between his legs. Tommy had thrust a bayonet
right through its belly.

“I
think it fancied you, Corp. Couldn’t have been for the sex if Rose is to be
believed, so it must have wanted you for dinner.”

Charlie
covered his mouth with his hands for fear the Germans might hear him laughing.

The
moon slid out from behind a cloud and again lit up the open land. Once more the
three men buried themselves in the mud and waited until another passing cloud
allowed them to advance a few more yards. It was two more hours before they
reached the barbedwire perimeter that had been erected to stop the Germans
breaking through.

Once
they had reached the spiky barrier Trentham changed direction and began to
crawl along the German side of the fence searching for a breach in the wire
between them and safety. Another eighty yards had to be traversed to Charlie it
felt more like a mile before the captain eventually found a tiny gap which he
was able to crawl through. They were now only fifty yards from the safety of
their own lines.

Charlie
was surprised to find the captain hanging back, even allowing him to crawl
past.

“Damn,”
said Charlie under his breath, as the moon made another entrance onto the
center of the stage and left them lying motionless only a street’s length away
from safety. Once the light had been turned out again, slowly, again inch by
inch, Charlie continued his crablike advance, now more fearful of a stray
bullet from his own side than from the enemy’s. At last he could hear voices,
English voices. He never thought the day would come when he would welcome the
sight of those trenches.

“We’ve
made it,” shouted Tommy, in a voice that might even have been heard by the
Germans. Once again Charlie buried his face in the mud.

“Who
goes there?” came back the report. Charlie could hear rifles being cocked up
and down the trenches as sleepy men quickly came to life.

“Captain
Trentham, Corporal Trumper and Private Prescott of the Royal Fusiliers,” called
out Charlie firmly.

“Password?”
demanded the voice.

“Oh,
God, what’s the pass ?”

“Little
Red Riding Hood,” shouted Trentham from behind them.

“Advance
and be recognized.”

“Prescott
first,” said Trentham, and Tommy pushed himself up onto his knees and began to
crawl slowly towards his own trenches. Charlie heard the sound of a bullet that
came from behind him and a moment later watched in horror as Tommy collapsed on
his stomach and lay motionless in the mud.

Charlie
looked quickly back through the half-light towards Trentham who said, “Bloody
Huns. Keep down or the same thing might happen to you.”

Charlie
ignored the order and crawled quickly forward until he came to the prostrate
body of his friend. Once he had reached his side he placed an arm around Tommy’s
shoulder. “There’s only about twenty yards to go,” he told him. “Man wounded,”
said Charlie in a loud whisper as he looked up towards the trenches.

“Prescott,
don’t move while the moon’s out,” ordered Trentham from behind them.

“How
you feelin’, mate?” asked Charlie as he tried to fathom the expression on his friend’s
face.

“Felt
better, to be ‘ones’,” said Tommy.

“Quiet,
you two,” said Trentham.