Tramp in Armour (26 page)

There had been no traffic along the main road since they had started, not even a farm cart, and this puzzled Barnes
until he mentioned it to Mandel who laughed grimly.

'No one comes this way at the moment because they know
that the Panzers use the highway, so what happens? My
neighbours go miles out of their way along side roads when
they could use this road easily, but they will not risk the
Panzers.'

'What happens when the Panzers meet something?'

'If they meet a vehicle or catch it up they tip it into the
ditch. Nothing must stop the progress of the Panzers. That is
why people are keeping away from here. You see, Sergeant
Barnes, soon we shall be finished.'

With the four walls completed they turned to the final task - the roofing-in of the new structure. Putting the icing on the cake, as Mandel called it. From this stage Barnes and Reynolds stood on top of the walls while Etienne handed up bales with the power-grab. It proved to be a more difficult stage than they had anticipated, because first they had to fill in the area round the turret, dropping bales down on to the hull and tracks and fitting these in round the gun. The gun was a nuisance because they had to wedge in bales round the long barrel and it slowed them down, but they persisted and then suddenly they had done the job. The drawback was that they ended up with an irregular roof which looked strange; once again Mandel came up with the solution, telling Etienne to use the power-grab in a certain way. Standing back on the road Barnes watched as the machine moved forward, the grab hoisted to its highest elevation. When it stopped Etienne brought the shovel down full force again and again, hammering the roof of hay flat. When he had completed the job even Barnes had to agree that from the road the haystack looked perfectly normal and he could hardly believe that Bert nestled inside the new structure. Then his eyes dropped to the ground in front of the stack and his mouth tightened. The earth was littered with hay relics and flattened dead grass which described a neat rectangle clearly locating the original site of the stack.

'Mandel - the Germans will see that. 'It's a dead give-away.' 'All has been prepared. Do not worry. You will see!' Reynolds and Etienne were now walking slowly back from the farm and between them they carried an enormous tarpaulin which they proceeded to spread over the marked area under Mandel's guidance. When it was in place the farmer began pulling hay from underneath the sheet and throwing it at random over the top.

'Now it means nothing. Perfect camouflage! This cover
could have slipped off the haystack or been pulled off to let the
sun dry the stack out. So now we can go inside and wait for
them.'

'I still think you ought to hide in the fields with us.'
'No, we shall stay here to welcome them. More camouflage!
So long as we line up on the roadside acknowledging their
achievements they are quite happy. You will come in for some
wine?'

'No, I'll wait here and relieve Penn. Why is Etienne dump
ing those spare bales in your yard?'

'To create a diversion. If something exciting is happening when they arrive it will take their minds off other things -
including that haystack. Leave this to me and do not worry if
you see signs of fire when the Boche comes. Marianne will
bring a glass of wine to you and inside we shall drink a toast.
To the tank!'

Barnes went into the middle of the road and waited alone as
he watched the deserted hill crest. Supposing that after all
their troubles the Panzers didn't come? But they were halted
on this side of Beaucaire and he remembered that apart from
one or two country lanes there had been no major road leading
off this one. Could they possibly get away with it? He looked
at the stack again, amazed by its appearance of normality. Just
so long as they didn't start pushing bayonets into it, although
it would need a pretty long bayonet to reach Bert through
those walls. And this, he thought, is a method of camouflage
you won't find in the textbooks.

Frequently he looked behind him along the road towards Cambrai and then he looked up into the brilliantly blue morning sky. Not a cloud anywhere, but more important still, not a
plane either. Again it was hard to believe there was a war on.
A few minutes later, at 7.15
am,
he was running at top speed towards the house when he met Marianne on her way out with a glass of wine, a glass he knew that he would never drink. He
had just seen the first German tank coming over the hill
crest.

They lay full length in a ditch some distance from the house
but at a point where Barnes could still see it. The ditch was
dry and disused and thick with tall weeds. A German would
have to be on top of them before there was the remotest chance
of' their being spotted, and the ditch was a long way from
anywhere. A long way from the road and a long way from the
outhouse where the Renault was now hidden. Penn, Jacques,
and Reynolds were sprawled out along the ditch behind him
and the machine-pistol rested in front of his chest. Barnes had
deliberately placed Jacques between the two men because he
was fairly sure that they would have to lie there for two or
three hours and he had no knowledge of the lad's endurance. When he had taken Reynolds aside his instructions had been quite precise.

'If he gets panicky and there's no other way out - knock him
on the head with your revolver butt.'

Through a clump of weeds Barnes could see the farmhouse and a section of the road. The view looked incredibly peaceful,
a pastoral scene with not a soul in sight. His eye fell on the haystack, an innocent piece of furniture one might expect to
find anywhere out in the country. For the second time in
twelve hours Bert was all on his own. He stiffened. From the
road beyond the house he heard the high-pitched engine sound
of a motor-cycle: a patrol must have overtaken the leading
tank and roared on ahead. A cycle with a side-car came into
view, turned, and drove out of sight into the farmyard. Penn
kept his own voice down as he spoke, although it wasn't neces
sary.

'Have they arrived?'

'Just a motor-bike and side-car. They've gone into the
yard.'

'Let's hope Mandel can handle them.'

'He'll handle them all right just so long as they don't start investigating that haystack.'

'Something's smoking - look, just beyond the roof.' Penn
rested his chin on the edge of the ditch. 'They can't have set
the place on fire already.'

'Got it! The artful old devil set fire to those spare bales
Etienne dumped in the yard. That's his diversion to keep them
occupied.'

For the first time Barnes wondered what rank Mandel had
attained during the First World War.

'Any sign of the two Jerries?' inquired Penn.

'No, they must still be at the house ... keep your head
down! Tell the others.'

Along the road from behind the house the first German
heavy tank appeared, its commander erect in the turret. The
machine seemed to glide along the highway and across the
field they could hear the low grumble of its revolving tracks.
He estimated the vehicle's speed at fifteen miles an hour and
the gun barrel was elevated at an angle of about ten degrees.
Another tank moved into view, then another and another.
They were certainly in a hurry to get somewhere and he was
surprised that they were not spaced farther apart. The
column's commander was either foolhardy or else he had very
good reason to know that they risked no danger of air attack.

Grimly he watched the enemy tanks and then thought of the
Mandels again.

What on earth was happening at the farm? There had been
no sign of the Mandels and the motor-cycle patrol was still on
the premises. Gradually, the smoke from the fire died down
until only a thin wisp rose above the rooftop. By the side of the : machine-pistol lay Barnes' field-glasses but he was reluctant to
use them except in an emergency - the sun could so easily
reflect off the lenses and if one of those commanders in the
turrets spotted it the fat would be in the fire. He settled him
self down to a long wait. Providing all went well at the farm
there wasn't a great deal of risk to fear: it was largely a matter
of patience, of waiting for the enemy to go away. This com
fortable thought had just passed through his mind when he heard the plane.

Instantly he was reminded of the machine which had spied
out the ground for the Panzers crossing the country south of
Fontaine. He would always remember that place as Fontaine. His body tensed, his nerves twanged as he realized the impli
cations, and he could have kicked himself for his complacency.
The element of comparative safety had now been turned into
one of maximum danger. He could tell that the plane was
flying very low, and from the way its engine sound faded, and
then grew louder he guessed that it was travelling in a circle.
It was the one hazard which he should have foreseen, the one
which had completely escaped him. Turning on his side he
spoke rapidly over his shoulder.

'It's a spotter plane, probably flying very low. From now on no one moves a whisker. Pass it on.'

'I'm the only one with a whisker to move,' said Penn.

From observation on land they were completely concealed
but aerial observation was quite a different matter. There were
four of them stretched but close together and the machine sounded to be only a few hundred feet up. They should still
escape detection so long as they remained motionless, but in
that still empty countryside only a small movement at the
wrong moment could easily locate them. Pressing his body into
the ditch, Barnes slowly turned his head to one side until he
could see a narrow oblong of pure blue sky. The plane was
very close now, almost on top of them from the sound, then it
flashed into view. It was barely two hundred feet up, so low
that he could see the outline of the pilot's helmet, a helmet
which was tilted downwards. Then it vanished. Barnes wet his lips and then stiffened again. The plane was turning to
come back again. Surely they couldn't have been spotted so quickly? Unless someone had moved. Jacques flashed into his mind and he stifled a groan. If he had moved Reynolds could
hardly have warned the lad in time, the damage would have
been done. Yes, it was definitely turning back, coming closer.
What on earth could have attracted the pilot's attention? Sud
denly he went ice-cold as the reason for the pilot's return
flashed through his brain.
He was coming back to examine the
haystack.

With an awful clarity Barnes saw their fatal mistake. He
had personally checked the appearance of the stack from the
road which had seemed the obvious danger point. But he had
forgotten the air! In his mind he relived the final stages of
the camouflage operation. The roof of the stack had looked
bumpy so Etienne had used the power-grab shovel to flatten
the top. Supposing some of the bales had sunk into the hollow,
perhaps falling down into a space between the tank and the
hay walls? It could easily have happened and this meant that
from the air Bert was now exposed to view. Penn's finger
tapped him on the shoulder.

'Anything wrong? I saw your hand grip the pistol.'

'No,' said Barnes firmly, 'but keep absolutely still. That
plane's coming back.'