Darkest Hour (17 page)

'Jesus, you made me jump,' said Lyell. 'Thank God
you're not Germans.'

So he wasn't dead or even dying, thought Tanner.
'Sorry, sir,' he said. 'We've come to rescue you.'

Lyell looked at the blood on his hand and his face
twisted with obvious pain. 'I think I've been out cold,' he muttered. 'Only
came to a few minutes ago. Christ, my bloody head hurts.'

'We'll get you back to our lines and then an MO can
attend to you, sir,' said Tanner.

'How long have I been out?'

Tanner looked at his watch. 'It's just gone five now
and we watched you come down about twenty past four. So, that's three-quarters
of an hour.' Tanner now stepped up beside him. 'Squadron Leader Lyell, is it
just your head or are you hurt anywhere else?'

Lyell looked at him sharply. 'How the devil d'you know
my name?'

Tanner pushed his helmet back. 'We met at Manston,
sir.'

'You!' exclaimed Lyell. 'What the bloody hell are you
doing here? Don't tell me I've survived only to be shot at again by a mad
Tommy.'

Tanner couldn't help smiling. 'You're not drunk in
charge of a vehicle this time, sir. We're with the rest of the battalion, dug
in along the far side of the canal.'

Lyell struggled to suppress a cry of pain. There were
beads of sweat and blood on his brow and a dark gash near the top of his
forehead. 'My bloody head.'

'Lads, keep your eyes peeled,' said Tanner. Then, with
Smailes, he squatted beside Lyell.

Lyell winced. 'I survive Christ knows how many bullets
and cannon shells, then hit my head trying to bale out.'

Smailes placed his hands gently around the cut on the
squadron leader's head. Immediately he yelled with pain. 'Christ, man! Jesus,
aargh! Get your sodding hands off me.'

'I've got to determine what you've done, sir.'

'Isn't it bloody obvious? Just get me out of here.'

'Let me give you some morphine, sir. It'll relieve the
pain.'

'Yes,' gasped Lyell, leaning his head back. 'Please do.'

As Smailes took a syringe and a phial from his medical
bag, Tanner had a good look round. The meadow was, he guessed, about a dozen
acres, lined with hedgerows of varying thickness. There were more meadows at
either side and tracks, too, linking them. To the top was the wood they could
see from the far bank. How deep it was, or what lay on the other side of the
ridge, he had no idea.

Having eased off Lyell's Irvin, Smailes pushed up his
sleeve and injected the morphine into his arm.

'Aah,' sighed Lyell.

'All right, Smiler,' said Tanner to Smailes. 'We
should try to lift him now and get him to safety. Here, Billy, help Smiler with
Squadron Leader Lyell.'

Ellis and Smailes each put an arm round his back and
placed his on their shoulders.

'One, two—'

'What's that?' said Tanner, turning his ear to the
woods above them.

'Just help me up, will you?' groaned Lyell.

'Sssh! Sorry, sir, but keep quiet a moment, will you?'

He listened again, and then they all heard it. Engines
- several of them.

'Sounds like motorbikes to me,' said Sykes, in a
hushed tone.

'Exactly,' said Tanner. 'Right. One, two, three - up.'
Lyell's silk parachute lay on the ground. 'Leave that,' he said, seeing Lyell
glance at it. 'Quick, get him to that hedge at the side of the meadow.'

They hurried over to it, then put Lyell back on the
ground.

'Right,' said Tanner. 'Billy and Smiler, can you two
carry him on your own?'

'I think so, sir,' said Smailes.

'Good, then give us your ammo and get going, quick as
you can make it. If Jerry comes and you don't think you can get across the
bridge safely, take cover and wait, but make sure you use the same route we
took to get here. Iggery, OK? Stan, Hep, you come with me.'

'Where are we going, Sarge?' asked Hepworth, eyes
wide.

'Just a little recce. Here, take the Bren - and no
more grumbling.'

Crouching, he led them along the edge of the field. He
could still hear the motorcycles, moving around on the hill above them.
Instinct told him they were German - after all, the Belgian Army was on the
left flank of the BEF, not here, and they'd seen few Belgian civilian
motorcycles on the road. As they reached the edge of the wood, he still
couldn't see them, but the sound was louder and coming from either side of them
- several motorcycles seemed to be moving away to their left and more to their
right. Indicating to Sykes and Hepworth to crouch behind an oak each, he paused
to look back over the French and British lines. He could see Oisquercq clearly,
the bridge intact. Some trucks trundled through the village, the mirror or
windscreen of one glinting until it turned out of the direct line of the sun.
And there were the farm and the lock. There was no sign of the other three.
Good. They're out of the meadow.

'I want to get a better look,' he hissed. 'We'll move forward
through these trees, but make sure you keep your ears sharp and your eyes
open.'

They pushed on, half crouching, using the trees as
cover. The wood floor was a carpet of bluebells. Shafts of sunlight poured
through the canopy of oak, beech, birch and spruce. There were a few bushes
here and there, bracken and rotten logs or fallen trunks, but otherwise it was
easy to move, and, thankfully, soft underfoot.

Tanner now heard more vehicles moving forward, then a
voice. It was too distant to make out clearly, but he sensed there was a road
or track ahead to their right. He pointed to the direction of the engines,
conscious that he could still hear a motorcycle moving away to their left and
now almost behind them.

Suddenly he glimpsed something ahead, crouched lower
and signalled to the other two to do the same.

'What is it?' whispered Sykes.

'I saw something - a large vehicle, I think,' hissed
Tanner. 'There must be a road up there - or a track, at least. Let's move up a
bit but make sure you keep your heads down. And no bloody noise.'

The ground ahead rose and then they could see a road
bisecting the wood. Along it, engines running, stood a column of German
armoured cars and motorbikes.

'Christ, Sarge!' whispered Hepworth. 'What the hell
are they doing?'

'I'd say they must be the reconnaissance. Advance
guard.' There were four armoured cars, squat four-wheeled vehicles; two had
small cannons and machine-guns fitted to the turrets, but on the other two
tubing extended from the hull and stretched round the turret.

'Any ideas what those two are about, Stan?' Tanner
asked.

'I reckon they must be radio cars, Sarge. Yes, that'll
be it.'

'Reporting back.' Tanner stroked his chin. He counted
six motorcycles, all with sidecars and a machine-gun attached to them. Two more
motorcycles appeared from away to their left, without sidecars. Tanner noticed
their riders had rifles slung across their backs.

'Look,' said Tanner. 'See that fallen trunk? Let's try
and get to it.' It was another fifty yards or so, thick with ivy. It offered
cover and, underneath it, the perfect place from which to observe the enemy.

'Don't you think we've seen enough, Sarge?' said
Hepworth, eyes still wide.

Fanner winked. 'No, Hep. We can have some fun here, I
reckon.'

'Fun, Sarge?' Hepworth was clearly horror-stricken.

'Think about it, Hep. Our lads are falling back and so
are the Frogs. Our job is to hold up Jerry as long as possible to give the rest
of the boys as much time as we can to get back to wherever we're going to make
a stand. These jokers here are obviously Jerry's advance guard. If Stan's
right, they'll be sending radio transmissions back to the main bulk of the
German advance, reporting on what they've seen and pinpointing targets, but
they can't do that if we put them out of action, can they?'

'And how do we do that?' His face had drained of
colour. 'There's only three of us.'

'Yes, but we've got the element of surprise. Look at
them - they're having some kind of pow-wow. The last thing they're going to
expect is an attack. And we've got the Bren, plenty of rounds, three rifles and
a load of grenades. I'm sure we can think of something to do with that lot.'

'And a few other bits and bobs.' Sykes grinned.

Tanner smirked. 'Like what, you sly dog?'

'A couple of tins of safety fuse, two cartons of
Nobel's finest, a tin of detonators, and something else I think you might
appreciate, Sarge.' He delved into his respirator bag and pulled out a small
tin about four inches long.

'What are those?' asked Tanner.

'Mark One time delay switches. You add a detonator to
one end and put your detonator into a pack or more of Nobel's. There's a phial
you snap that releases some kind of 'orrible corrosive and when it's burned
through a thin tube of copper it releases a striker and a spring, and bang - off
goes your gelignite.'

'What's the delay?'

'Depends on where you set the strip of copper, fen
minutes, half an hour, an hour and a half, and so on. They're new, apparently.
I've only got five of them, mind. That's all you get in a tin.'

Tanner shook his head. 'Where on earth did you find
this stuff?'

Sykes winked. 'Pinched it from Division sappers back
in Tournai. I like having a few explosives about me, these days. Never know
when they might come in handy.' He put away the tin. 'Norway taught me that much,
Sarge.'

'Why didn't you tell me, Stan? We could have taken
twice as much.'

Sykes looked sheepish. 'I thought you were probably in
enough trouble, Sarge. No one's watching me particular, you see.'

'You're probably right.'

'I still don't know what we can do, though,' said
Hepworth.

'Nor do I yet,' said Tanner. 'Let's get to that tree
first. We'll think of something.'

They inched forward, the trees and some thicker
foliage, with the engine noise of an armoured car, providing them with cover.
At the fallen tree, they lay down on their stomachs. The enemy were about sixty
yards away, still deep in conversation. Tanner brought his binoculars to his
eyes. Immediately he spotted the officer in charge - different shoulder tabs,
jacket, belt and breeches - standing in front of the leading armoured car, one
with a gun turret. He didn't think much of the uniform. It was too stiff, too
formal - impractical. Another officer's head was poking out of the radio car,
headphones over his cap. The rest were other ranks - privates and NCOs -
between twenty and thirty in all. He looked back in the direction from which
the Germans had evidently come. He couldn't see far, but there was no sign of
any others.

'We need some kind of distraction,' he whispered.
'Something to keep them busy while we get round the back and disable those
armoured cars.'

'How about setting off a couple of packets of
gelignite?' suggested Sykes. 'I could push round a bit, set them for ten
minutes, then scarper back here. Then Hep can open up with the Bren and we'll
hop in from behind with some grenades.'

Tanner nodded thoughtfully. 'Can't think of a better
plan. All right. I'll try to pick off the officers when Hep opens up with the
Bren.' He glanced through his binoculars again and saw that the senior officer
was now peering towards the sky with his own. Others were also gazing upwards.

'Hello,' he whispered. 'What's going on here?'

Then he heard it. The faint, rhythmic thrum of
aero-engines.

'Bombers,' he murmured. The sound of the approaching
aircraft grew until it became a roar. Then, glancing up through the canopy,
they glimpsed two dozen Stukas and a moment later the first aircraft began its
dive, siren wailing, followed by another and another, as each hurtled down
towards its target. Amid the screaming sirens and whine of the engines came the
whistle of falling bombs and the rattle of machine-guns. The bombs detonated,
cracking the air and rippling the ground so that Tanner could feel the
vibrations even from where they were, nearly a mile behind.
Christ. I hope Smiler and Billy have got Lyell safe.

Sykes nudged him. 'Couldn't have timed it better
myself.'

'Get going now,' Tanner told him. 'I'll see you over
there, by that big oak.' He pointed to a large tree roughly in line with their
present position but behind the enemy column. 'Be as quick as you can.'

Sykes scampered off. Tanner unloaded his Bren
magazines and laid them beside Hepworth. He put a hand on the private's
shoulder. He liked the lad for all his bellyaching; they'd been through so much
together in Norway and he hadn't let Tanner down yet. 'You'll be fine, Hep.
When the explosions go off, wait a few seconds, then open fire. Just make sure
you knock down as many as you can.'

'All right, Sarge.' He swallowed hard and Tanner saw
that his hands were shaking as he moved the spare magazines.

Tanner patted Hepworth's back then set off, half
crouching, half running, between the trees until he reached the large oak.
There he stopped, put his binoculars in his haversack and took out his Aldis
scope, carefully unwrapped it from its cloth, and fitted it to the pads on his
rifle. He'd had it zeroed at four hundred yards, but the distance here was way
less - maybe seventy. That meant adjusting the range drum and aiming a good
deal lower than the main point of impact as indicated by the scope. He moved
round the oak, found a cluster of brambles and positioned himself behind it but
with enough of a view through the tangle of leaves and stems to pick out the
two officers. Both were still watching the Stukas' attack. The bombs had been
dropped, but Tanner heard the aircrafts' change of pitch and whine as they
swooped and attacked with their machine-guns. He was certain they were
targeting the French, rather than the British at Oisquercq and Tubize, but
there was no doubt that D Company would be feeling the force of the attack. He
hoped they were bearing up, and reminded himself that a soldier properly dug in
had only a lucky direct hit to fear. And the enemy would want that bridge
intact - they would have been careful where they dropped their loads.