Spook's Gold (43 page)

“Everyone ready?” he asked. “Then let’s go.”

Lemele looked around. “Where is the rest of your team?”

Delaune grunted with amusement. “This
is
it. Small but deadly, just like Dubus here.”

Unlike the other groups that Lemele had observed leaving, Dubus and Delaune were only carrying rucksacks of similar size to hers. The exception was Slowikowski who had heaved an enormous pack onto his back and was being aided by Dubus to get it settled and comfortable. In addition to this and his rifle, he picked up a tubular device that was a metre long. “Are you really going to drag that thing along?” asked Delaune sceptically. “It will only slow you down and we’re unlikely to get close enough to the submarine to use it.”

Slowikowski grinned; it seemed to be his standard facial expression. “This is the only thing that we have got that might punch a hole in that tin can. So I am willing to carry it if it gives me a chance to have a pop at the sub’.”

“What is it?” asked Lemele.

“A PIAT, an anti-tank weapon. The shaped charge in the projectile that it fires is designed to pierce the thick armour of tanks. You can only be certain to be effective against tanks at a range of under a hundred metres, but it should be capable of piercing the pressure hull of a submarine at double that. We may not sink it, but if we hit the exposed structure of the submarine whilst it is on the surface, we’ll make a big enough hole that they won’t be able to dive. That will leave them as a sitting duck for the navy boys.”

Lemele did not see Marner’s murderous look aimed in her direction; she was trying to follow Slowikowski who was warming to his subject, comparing the technical merits of the PIAT to the American Bazooka. He was brought up short by Dubus emitting a loud mock-yawn of boredom. Slowikowski laughed. “Dub’ there prefers the precision of his sniper rifle.”  Lemele noted the scoped rifle slung across Dubus’ back, in addition to the machine gun that he carried.

“The PIAT is not especially accurate at long ranges but I have got plenty of spare shells in the rucksack. I’m dying to have a go at that submarine.”

Again the grin and the enthusiasm; Lemele reflected that Dubus’ description of Slowikowski as a kid that liked bangs and explosions was perfectly apt. Delaune brought the discussion to a halt. “Okay, bring it along if you must, but we need to get moving.”

Delaune turned to move but this time it was Marner who spoke, “What happened to the other soldiers who were being held prisoner with me?  They were taken away this morning.”

Lemele recalled the young prisoners who had being sitting close by when she had spoken with Marner earlier that morning. Delaune was momentarily silent and confusion showed on his face. Dubus replied for him, “Not your problem Fritz. Now, move!”

The animosity of Dubus towards Marner was palpable. Lemele could see that Dubus would capitalise on any and all opportunities to antagonise his captive, and violence was never far below the surface. Marner refused to be intimidated. “As the ranking officer amongst those men it is my duty to assure their welfare under the terms of the Geneva Convention.”

Delaune stepped in to defuse the rising tension. “They were handed over to the Maquis for safe keeping. Our troops are too few and have to disperse quickly; we don’t have the capability to manage prisoners.”  Delaune turned again and moved off, leaving Marner no opportunity to question or object. As soon as Delaune’s back was turned, Dubus gestured silently to Marner by raising a finger and drawing it across his throat, no doubt inferring the fate of the prisoners in the hands of their new captors. “Welcome to your war, Fritz,” he grinned and then shoved Marner to follow Delaune.

Marner yanked his arm away from Dubus grip and turned to square up to him. Marner’s face was a mask of rage and hatred and Lemele feared that he was going attack Dubus. She knew that this was what Dubus was trying to provoke and she had no doubt that Dubus would enjoy the opportunity. She touched Marner gently on the arm. “Come on Dieter, there’s nothing that we can do.”

Marner flinched from her touch as though stung. He maintained his eye contact with Dubus for a few more seconds and then to Lemele’s relief turned and followed Delaune. As they crossed the encampment there were numerous exchanges and calls of good luck from the other soldiers. The major emerged from the tent and called to Delaune, “Happy hunting.”

Chapter Forty Seven

Had Lemele been in charge, she would have moved the group as quickly as possible away from the encampment and from the sounds of gunfire that were echoing around them in the forest. Delaune, however, who was leading and setting the pace, appeared to be in no hurry, preferring to move carefully with frequent pauses to evaluate the terrain ahead. The fact that they were descending from the promontory on which the camp had been established gave them a height advantage; the rocky ground and trees gave them cover.

A single gunshot cracked from close by, causing Lemele to duck instinctively. “Relax,” soothed Slowikowski. “Most of the gunfire is our own people creeping around in the forest, trying to confuse the enemy and draw them away from the camp.”

They were heading directly north, which would gave them the benefit of the cover of the forest for the maximum distance. After an hour of stop-start progress, the sound of gunfire had diminished in volume but Delaune was concerned by the sound of German voices that were becoming increasingly loud on their left side. He instructed them to stay in position whilst he crept off towards the source of the noise; he was back only a minute later. “We need to turn east. There is a company-sized group moving into the forest and they are only a hundred metres away. They may be planning to come in here and then turn south to flank the camp from the direction that we have come from. Whatever, we need to move quickly.”

Delaune led the way again, this time striding with less caution through the trees. Dubus switched from his position in the middle of the file, between Marner and Lemele, to hang back with Slowikowski. Now that she was directly behind Marner, Lemele could hear his ragged breathing as they were forced to keep up the near jogging pace that Delaune had set. She realised that she had forgotten to consult the camp medic about something for his chest infection; too late now. Lemele resolved to try to ensure that there were frequent stops, opportunities for Marner to drink and eat. The antagonism of the soldiers towards him would not endear them to this suggestion, so it would be necessary to make the breaks seem to be for her benefit, not his.

At the eastern edge of the forest, Delaune turned again to the north and they followed a zigzag route that permitted them to keep under the cover of the forest where possible, emerging to walk along the edge of the bordering fields or grass and crops only where their route was blocked by brambles or rocky bluffs.

When the trees ran out, they squatted in a ditch and took a quick break to drink and eat crackers that Dubus distributed from his rucksack. Delaune spoke to Lemele and Marner, explaining that they would move at a trot across the field of hay in front of them; that it was important that they keep up. From the corner of her eye, Lemele caught Dubus grinning at Marner, as if to challenge him or to infer the consequences if he did not do as instructed. Marner made no indication that he was even aware of Dubus.

Slowikowski went first and alone, running as fast as he could under the weight of his equipment. He reached the middle of the field and hunkered down in the long grass. Lemele could see only his head and the tip of the PIAT launcher as he made a slow rotation with his rifle levelled in front of him, checking the landscape from his slightly elevated position for threats. When he had completed a full turn and signalled no danger, it was the turn of Delaune. The Captain moved faster under his lighter load and he ran straight on past Slowikowski to the far side of the field. Dubus now stood up and motioned his two charges to go. Marner and Lemele moved as fast as they could and both were panting and sweating when they reached the far side.

In this way they moved across the countryside, crossing fields and woodland at a fast pace. They saw no sign of any German troops until the end of the afternoon, and when they did, Lemele was certain that they were going to die.

----

They were crossing a ragged copse of gorse and trees when Delaune, this time bringing up the rear, hissed that they should run. The warning was too late; no sooner had he called than gunfire started up from behind them, bullets snapping through the grass and whining over their heads. From the number of guns that she could hear, Lemele knew that there must be a sizeable number of Germans at their heels.

She observed that these trained SAS soldiers did not instinctively try to flee or duck and hide as she wanted too. Instead they calmly turned to face the threat, the better to understand it and deal with it. Dubus and Slowikowski each moved to the nearest tree and turned to return fire whilst Delaune scuttled the last twenty metres to catch up with them. Lemele willed her trembling rubber body to follow their example, rising up from her prone position to take up cover behind an outcrop of rock. She could see figures flitting amongst the trees and gorse bushes, muzzle flashes from the guns being fired at them. Flinching and cringing as bullets began to impact closer and closer, the enemy gunfire now being attracted and focussed on the fire from the SAS, she forced her arms to bring the Sten up and began shooting. It was not well directed, but she knew from what Slowikowski had taught her that the Sten was ineffective from this range anyway. She just hoped that the added noise would have some impact, make their attackers think that they were facing a larger and more formidable force.

Lemele was shocked at how quickly the gun clicked onto empty; she had been firing almost blindly and in panic and the thirty round magazine seemed to be used up in moments. It would be necessary to fire in shorter, more controlled volleys when it really counted. She crouched down, banged in another magazine and was rising back up to have another ago when a blast jolted her off her feet.

A grenade had exploded on the other side of the cover behind which she was hiding and a piece of shrapnel tugged at her hair as it whizzed past. Hands pulled her up from the ground and dragged her on. She stumbled but the hands held her firm and kept her moving. She looked to see who it was; Slowikowski smiled at her. “Too damned hot to stay here; too many of them.”

They ran flat out, weaving through the trees and around the rocks. For the moment, no bullets fell close although they could hear continued firing and the bangs of grenades. The enemy seemed to have stalled, unsure of what they were facing.

At the end of the copse they were confronted by a standard hedgerow of north-western France: a one metre high earth bank topped by a tangle of bushes and brambles. Urged on by Slowikowski, Lemele dived into the gap that had been just used by Delaune. Thorns snagged at her clothes and scratched her hands as she passed through. She seemed to be stuck for just a moment, looking at the gorse-covered ditch directly below, the road beside it and the orchard beyond. Something, presumably one of the others trying to follow her through, bumped her and she was free and tumbling uncontrolled down the far side. Marner came next, landing on top of her in a shower of leaves and yellow petals from the tiny gorse flowers.

Shooting resumed from just above her head and she looked up; Dubus and Slowikowski had come over the top but had taken care not to fall. Instead, they had turned and dug their feet into the soft earth bank and were returning fire back at the copse. Delaune was beside Lemele and was frantically trying to poke a way out of the blanket of thick gorse that covered the bank and under which they were now trapped. He stopped when they heard the roar of an engine and screech of brakes. More Germans were arriving on the road in front of the ditch. Delaune yelled up to his men above and they came crashing down, thumping into the damp earth to join the others.

They were perfectly hidden behind the gorse. On their side they were faced only with the network of grey-brown roots and branches, whereas from the exterior it would appear to be an impenetrable mass of thorns and leaves. Boots were clattering up and down the road just metres in front of them, the voices of the owners becoming frustrated that they could not find their quarry. Any comfort that might have been taken from this was eroded when the shooting behind them ceased and the soldiers who had pursued them across the copse arrived at the hedge above their heads. They called to their comrades on the road that the fugitives must be somewhere close, probably in the bushes below.

The Germans on the road were still unable to see Lemele and the group through the gorse, despite the fact that they were only metres away, despite the ragged breathing of the group. Frustrated, one of the German soldiers began to fire shots randomly into the bushes. Lemele shrieked; fortunately the sound was drowned out by the sound of the shots and by the other soldiers who began firing, all wanting to join in this fun sport. Slowikowski put a hand on her arm to steady her nerves, and then silently raised his weapon to point back at the Germans. Delaune had done the same. Only Dubus was not pointing his machine gun outwards; he had it poked into the ribs of Marner to dissuade him from making any noise; from giving away their position to his compatriots. It was also clear as to which German would receive Dubus’ first bullet when the final shoot-out began.

Shaking, Lemele quietly manoeuvred her Sten around and into firing position. She was shocked that this was the end, could not believe that she was now going to die in a hail of gunfire in a field far from home. It was not how she had expected to end her days. In spite of her trembling body, her mind was calm, ready. She hoped that it would be instantaneous, painless.

Ready for death, finger already applying pressure to the trigger, Lemele screamed again when two planes roared low overhead, their cannons thundering at the mass of German troops milling on the road in front and in the field behind. Debris from above rained down onto them, everything shook and, although she was already deafened, her ears popped at a huge explosion; one of the trucks used by the troops had been hit. Now the Wehrmacht began scattering, some running for the remaining vehicles, some of them looking for cover to hide. Lemele feared that they might jump into the ditch, but the gorse looked far less inviting from the other side. Within thirty seconds the commanding officer had rounded up the soldiers and had them loaded aboard the trucks and moving away, fearful that the planes would return.