Darkest Hour (55 page)

Sykes joined him in gazing along the seafront. 'There!
Sarge, up ahead! It
was
them! It
was!'

Tanner set off again, Sykes following. Now he could
see them too. They were walking quickly, not running, and Tanner and Sykes were
gaining on them. Suddenly, the three men stepped off the road and into a
building under a shredded cafe awning, but as Tanner and Sykes drew level they
saw that the awnings covered not one but two cafes, and that there were two
more doors as well.

'Damn!' said Tanner. 'Where have they gone?'

'Let's try the cafes first. I'll go into this one and
you check next door,' said Sykes.

Tanner nodded. Inside, at least thirty men sat either
drinking or sleeping. Bottles lay smashed on the floor, while the mirror behind
the bar was also broken. 'Anyone see three men come in?' Tanner demanded.

'Cellar's next door,' a soldier replied. 'You're not
redcaps, are you?'

Tanner hurried out and through the door to the side. A
corridor ran along the cafe wall, and at the end a staircase led up and down.
He went up first, searching each room of the house above the cafe. On the
second floor, he opened a bedroom door to find a soldier with a French girl.
She screamed, as though she was more terrified of him than of the bombs.
Apologizing, he backed out and, having finished his search, went down to the
ground floor and descended the stairs to the cellar.

There was light down there from several hurricane
lamps, the same stench of sweat and urine. 'Did three men just come in?' he
asked again.

'They've gone on down,' said a bloody-faced man.
'These cellars are deep.'

Tanner thanked him and picked his way through the
bodies coughing and wheezing on the damp floor. Seeing more steps down, he took
them. There were men below, but the light was dim. Taking out his torch, he now
saw there were several chambers. 'I'm looking for three men that have just come
in,' he said. Shining his torch on the man at his feet he was startled to see
the black and green shoulder tab of the Yorkshire Rangers. He grabbed the man's
collar and recognized him immediately as one of Blackstone's group.

'Where the hell are Blackstone and Slater?' he
demanded.

'What?' mumbled the man and Tanner smelled the alcohol
on his breath.

'Come on, wake up!' he said. 'Where are Blackstone and
Slater?'

A footstep behind, and suddenly something was prodding
into his back.
I've found them.

'Well, well,' said Slater. 'Jack Tanner. You just keep
turning up, like a bad penny. I can't tell you how fed up I am of seeing you.
Why won't you ever die?'

Tanner half turned. Slater wore an ugly snarl.
'Because, Slater,' he said, in a low, measured voice, 'if you want to kill
someone, you have to do it properly and you have to do it face to face. But you
and Blackstone never do that - you always leave too much to chance.' He stood
up slowly, his back to the other man. The revolver muzzle pressed harder into
his side.

Slater chuckled mirthlessly, then breathed into
Tanner's ear, 'Do you know what? I think you're right.'

Tanner heard the click of the cock and at that moment
jerked his head backwards, hard. The rim of his helmet hit flesh and Slater
screamed, instinctively bringing his hands to his face. At that moment, Tanner
jabbed his left elbow into Slater's head. He cried out again and fell to his
knees. Still clutching his pistol he now tried to straighten his right arm, but
before he could fire, Tanner punched him in the temple - a hard, sharp, crushing
blow. In the flickering light, he watched him topple over, blood pouring from
the long gash across his nose and cheeks. Lifeless eyes stared ahead as he hit
the ground, dead.

'Jesus - what's going on here?' said one man.

'What are you doing killing your own bleeding side?'
said another.

'He was a murderer many times over,' said Tanner, 'and
he was about to kill me. If anyone deserved to die it was him. Now, where did
the other two go?' He bent to pick up the revolver, then shone his torch at the
men huddled on the floor. Most, he realized, were drunk too. He stepped forward
down a passageway from which wine bays extended on either side. After about
five yards, it turned ninety degrees and continued in a square. As he
cautiously turned the first corner, he heard a slight commotion behind him and
ran back, only to see a pair of legs disappear up the steps.

Blackstone?
He darted after him, stumbling over Slater's
prostrate body. He gasped, recovered, and sped up the steps. In the brighter
first chamber he saw Blackstone hurtle up the staircase to the ground floor.
Tanner followed, kicking another man as he tried too quickly to dodge between
the mass of soldiers. 'Sorry,' he called back, 'but I've got to catch that
man!' Up the staircase, into the corridor, and there was Blackstone by the
door. Tanner saw Sykes step into the doorway, but

Blackstone was running hard at him and knocked him out
of the way. Tanner ran on, then tripped again, sprawling on the pavement next
to Sykes. 'Get up! Get up!' shouted Tanner and, scrambling to his feet, saw
Blackstone race across the road and down onto the beach, running like a madman
towards the sea.

Tanner followed, unslinging his rifle as he tore after
him. At the edge of the beach, he stopped and raised his weapon. Blackstone was
sixty yards away now, nearing the water. Tanner aimed, then a group of soldiers
walked in front of his view. He cursed, but realized what Blackstone was
thinking. A short way out to sea a small whaler was turning away from a line of
men on the beach and being rowed to a waiting tramp steamer further out. But as
it broke away from the line of men, it moved initially almost parallel to the
shore. Blackstone was now in the water, wading out towards the wooden vessel.
Tanner followed, Sykes beside him, a clean, clear shot now out of the question.
Men were shouting at Blackstone from the beach, but he waded on undeterred.

'He'll get pushed back, Sarge,' said Sykes, now standing
breathlessly beside Tanner, the sea lapping at their feet. 'There's a system
here, of sorts. Queue-barging ain't allowed.'

'Don't you believe it, Stan.'

Blackstone was now at the whaler, a lone arm raised
and gripping the gunwale. Tanner and Sykes saw the Royal Navy officer at the
tiller shouting at him to let go, but then he seemed to change his mind because
two Tommies began to heave Blackstone aboard -
Oh, let him on,
then.

'Bloody hell,' said Sykes.

'The bastard,' muttered Tanner.

They watched as Blackstone sat up in the boat and
looked towards them.

'Cheers, boys!' he shouted. 'It's been good knowing
you, Jack!'

Tanner watched a moment, then turned away. 'Come on,
Stan,' he said. 'Let's get back to Captain Hillary.' Slowly, they trudged off
the beach, neither man speaking as they wove through exhausted waiting soldiers
and past the debris of a broken army. But then, as they climbed off the beach
and walked back along the seafront, they heard two aircraft roar overhead.
Looking up, Tanner glimpsed two Junkers 88s as they flashed through the smoke
and low cloud. Then bombs were whistling through the air, evidently aimed at
the tramp steamer, for the first exploded in a mountain of spray just to her
stern. The second and third fell near her port side, but the fourth fell
further away, some forty yards from the vessel.

'My God, Stan,' said Tanner, 'the whaler.'

More bombs fell beyond the steamer, detonating
harmlessly in the water, but as the spray subsided there was no longer any sign
of the small boat, or of the twenty- odd men crammed into it. For a minute,
Tanner and Sykes stared at the disturbed sea. Of the men and the whaler there
was almost no sign, just a few bits of wood. Tanner took out his German
binoculars. A few bodies bobbed on the surface but he knew that most of the
men, if not blown to bits, would have sunk; their lack of life- jackets, heavy
uniforms and webbing would have seen to that. Seagulls were circling like
vultures, then swooping towards the water.

'Damn,' muttered Tanner.

'But he's dead, Sarge. I'm sorry for those other poor
buggers, but to Blackstone, good bloody riddance.'

Tanner grunted and continued to peer through his
binoculars.

'Sarge?' said Sykes.

'I'd like to see a body.'

'There's no way he could have survived that. Look -
the bloody thing was obliterated.'

It was true. Tanner could see no sign of life - except
the seagulls. 'I suppose you're right, Stan,' he said, lowering the binoculars.

'He's not going to trouble us anymore,' said Sykes.
'On that you can rest easy.'

Tanner nodded.

'And Slater?' said Sykes.

Tanner told him. 'Useful thing, a Tommy helmet,' he
said.

'So that's it, then, Sarge? Blackstone and Slater?'

'Yes, Stan.'

Captain Hillary was waiting for them by the car. 'Find
anyone?' he asked.

'Not really, sir,' muttered Tanner.

'Nor me. Still, no use crying over spilt milk. We
tried, eh? Now we need to go back and get on with it. Make the best of what
we've got.'

Tanner pulled out a cigarette, exhaustion seeping over
him.
Just a few minutes' kip.
Blackstone
and Slater might be dead, but there was still an enemy to fight, and he knew
that if he was ever to see England again he'd need all his wits about him for
the battle to come.

Wednesday passed into Thursday, 30 May, and still the
enemy did not come, but all along the canal that marked the Dunkirk perimeter,
the men made the most of the respite, strengthening defences and preparing for
the battle. D Company had occupied an abandoned farm four hundred yards from
the bridge. The main house, a solid old brick building with a typically Flemish
high- gabled tile roof, overlooked the canal. It had not only a first floor
with good views to the south but also an empty attic with a gabled window to
the rear. Behind it was a large barn, also with a second storey, offering views
both east and west along the canal, and some outbuildings. A track led out of
the farm then dog-legged back to the road between the bridge and Krommenhouck.

The men had been digging hard. As Tanner had guessed,
the soil was rich and soft, and between them they had soon created a trench
system that ran back from the farm and extended along the canal front as far as
A and B Companies to either side of them. As the hours passed, it was widened,
deepened and strengthened. The sluices all along this drained section of
Flanders had been opened in an effort to slow the German advance, and by the
morning of the thirtieth, the fields on either side of the road to Krommenhouck
lay beneath shallow water. Even so, by using the excavated soil as a makeshift
dyke, the Rangers managed to hold at bay most of the rising water along their
front; although the trenches were soggy underfoot, they were by no means
flooded.

More importantly, the wait had allowed them to stockpile
ammunition and supplies. From the abandoned vehicles along the road in front of
their position, D Company had requisitioned another fifteen Bren guns, one
Lewis gun, two Boys anti-tank rifles, eight wooden boxes of twelve No. 36
grenades, numerous spare rifles and some twenty-five thousand rounds of .303
ammunition. In addition, Sykes had scouted out some more explosives.

'If I'm honest, Sarge,' he confessed to Tanner, 'I
didn't look all that hard for those C Company lads in Dunkirk. I got a bit
distracted, you see, by some sapper boys who showed me an abandoned truck of
theirs a bit further down on the beach. Anyway, they had a wooden box of Nobels
and all the gear, so I 'elped meself. I managed to stuff in five cartons of
808, plus detonators and safety fuse.' He grinned. 'You never know when it
might come in handy.'

However, it was not only weapons and ammunition they
had found but food and other supplies too. The larder in the farmhouse was soon
stacked high with tins of bully beef, condensed milk, fruit, vegetables,
biscuits, beer, wine and cigarettes. The men would no longer be expected to
fight on empty stomachs. Tanner found a new battle-blouse, and also a compass -
something he had rarely used before because he had generally relied on the sun
and the stars and his own sense of direction, yet he now vowed never to be
without one again. Lieutenant Peploe and Kershaw, meanwhile, recovered a No. 9
wireless set from an abandoned carrier. Setting it up in Company Headquarters
in one of the outbuildings at the back of the farmhouse, they soon managed to
pick up the BBC and, for the first time since they'd arrived in France, were
able to hear the news from home. They also discovered some of what was
happening in France. The evacuation, it seemed, was going better than had been
expected.

That Thursday was a glorious day - warm, sunny, with a
deep blue sky and just a few summery white clouds. Late in the morning,
stripped to his shirtsleeves, Tanner led a six-man patrol across the canal,
partly to see if there was any sign of the approaching enemy but also to
scrounge yet more supplies. At L'Avenir, a hamlet a mile or so to the south,
they struck gold when they found two abandoned Royal Engineers
eight-hundredweight Humber trucks. In the back of the first, sitting there
waiting for the enemy to help themselves, were two wooden crates of Nobels as
well as an intact fifty-cap blasting machine.