Not Flag or Fail Page 13

  We crouched in the shadows of the hedgerow, our hearts thumping as we watched a Kubel wagon lead six trucks at speed towards the centre of the town.

  “Crikey that’s all we need.” said Ronny.

  “Well let’s not hang about then eh?” I said as they disappeared into the distance.

  I grabbed his sleeve, pulling him up after me as I sprinted across the main road, back into the darkness of the lane on the other side of the road. We shared a whispered conversation about what we had seen and if it altered our plans, eventually we decided their presence could mean anything from a small convoy of trucks carrying paperclips that was merely passing through the town, to six lorry loads of SS troops on a mission to find us. As we couldn’t possibly know which, we decided to just forget about it and carry on regardless.

  The churchyard eventually came into view and still keeping into the shadows we made our way to the wall and entered the churchyard by a gateway at the north end. The whole area was well lit, the full moon again providing almost daylight conditions. We could see our tomb plainly enough but could not see a way of getting there without being in full view of anyone who may be looking. After a while we decided to go back out into the lane and follow the wall around to the other gate, that way we could remain in the shadows and yet still get much closer to the tomb.

  Getting to the other gate only took about five minutes; still we did not make a dash for the tomb, knowing that someone was bound to have fixed a new padlock on the tomb, the gate, or both and that we would be out in the moonlight whilst we tried to gain entry. After some discussion we decided that Ronny would do his best to remain in the shadow by the wall and cover me, whilst I tried to smash the locks off.

  I ran across and found that the gate in the railings had not had a new lock fitted; however someone had wrapped a length of wire around it to keep it closed. Using my dagger I was able to start it unravelling, it was obvious from the amount used that whatever shortages there were in France, wire was not one of them. As quickly as I could, I began to unwrap it from around the railing. The gate opened and I made my way to the door of the tomb I was able to get half of my body into the shadows whilst with the help of the moonlight I examined the repair to the second lock. Here I found that a padlock much larger and much more substantial than the one originally fitted, I couldn’t see how, short of shooting it, I was going to get it open. I started back to tell Ronny the situation when a thought occurred to me and I turned around and went back to the door. When I looked at it again the lock looked no less substantial than it had moments ago, however just as I thought, it had been fitted to the old hasp and hinge. I took out the dagger again and got the point down behind the hasp and levered for several minutes until the screws loosened and it dropped away from the doorframe, leaving the door unlocked.

  I went back to the gate in the railings and looked for Ronny, I couldn’t see any sign of him, he must have hidden himself well. I waved for him to join me but nothing happened, I stooped down, making myself less obvious and waited but still Ronny didn’t come.

  Releasing the safety catch from the Thompson I ran across to the wall, stopping with my back hard against the wall.

  I waited, listening and edged nearer to the gateway, I pushed the gun barrel slowly into the gateway and followed it, very, very, cautiously. I looked to the left where I’d left him but he wasn’t there. To the right of the gateway the moonlight lit the wall better but still there was no sign of him.

  An alarm cry from either a magpie or crow broke the silence and caused me to jump, I looked in the direction that it came from and saw Ronny, about fifty yards away from me. He was walking slowly down the path towards the canal and a few yards behind him were two German soldiers, both pointing rifles at his back.

  The path was exposed, if I followed them and they turned around I would be seen, if I was seen I would have no option but to fire on them, I knew what the Thompson was capable of, so there was no doubt in my mind, if I fired I would shoot Ronny too.

  They would be taking him to some sort of guard post for sure, there they would find strength in numbers, I had to stop them before they got much further.

  To the right of the path was a small copse, I could get in there and follow them staying in cover, although I would wake every sleeping animal and bird, who would soon be telling the world I was there. To the left of the path was a field of winter oats that was nearly ready for harvesting and most of the crop was higher than me. I could get through the oats unseen, progress would be slow and they would be off the path before I could catch up with them, I had to delay them somehow.

  Looking down I saw several large stones had fallen from a damaged section of the wall. I lifted one and pulled back my arm; I stepped briefly out of the shadows and threw the stone with every ounce of strength I could muster. I watched it rise into the air towards them and then it was enveloped by the darkness. I fell back into the shadows to watch what would happen next. The thud as it hit the ground somewhere near to them and to the right of the path was not loud but it had the desired effect, I watched as they pushed Ronny roughly to the ground and then knelt down next to him, their rifles pointing towards the trees .

  I lost no time, I picked up another stone and was up and running into the oats, my progress faster than I expected as I realised once inside there were some larger gaps in the planting that had created narrow paths. After what I estimated was about thirty yards I stopped, put down the Thompson and taking the second stone, again threw it in the direction of the copse. This time I didn’t wait, I picked up the Thompson and continued my run towards the spot where I thought they would be.

  Carefully I made my way towards the edge of the crops; I could hear German voices to my right, I had gone past where they lay. The Germans were whispering but I detected a note of panic, this was a good sign, they were unsettled, which probably meant they were no better at this than I was. As quietly as I could, I moved through the oats to where the voices had come from and then I stepped out onto the path, Ronny to the left of me, my Thompson pointing at their backs. I kicked the calf of the one nearest to me; he jumped and turned around, the movement attracting the attention of his mate. Both looked up at me with a puzzled look on their faces.

  “Go behind me and get their weapons Ronny” I said and was surprised how calm my voice sounded, inside my heart was beating like a drum.

  Ronny got to his haunches and then leaned across to the first German and recovered his own Thompson which he slung over his own shoulder before reaching for the German rifles.

  “Unload them and throw them into the field.” I said, “Throw the bullets towards the trees.” Ronny did as I said, and then checked them for other weapons, finding only two bayonets and some spare ammunition which followed the rifles into the field.

  “What are we going to do with them now then?” Ronny asked.

  I told him I was hoping he would know the answer to that. I made them take off their helmets, figuring that if I needed to I could immobilise them quietly with a bash to the head. I then pushed them in front of us, along the path towards the churchyard. At Ronny’s suggestion we took them into the tomb, I paused to pick up the wire from the gate which I thought we could use to secure them. Ronny told them to lie, face down on the floor at the bottom of the steps.

  “Shall we use the daggers it will be quieter?” Ronny said.

  “Don’t be stupid, there’s no need to kill them; they’re not a threat.” I replied, shocked by Ronny’s willingness to do it.

  “No not now but they were, they were probably going to kill Me.” he answered almost petulantly.

  “Let’s just tie them up for now.” I said and told him to get one of them to climb up onto one of the shelves. When this had been done I used the small cutters on the clasp knife to cut off a length of wire and used it to tie the German’s hands behind his back. I had nothing against him personally but felt I had to make sure, so I tightened the wire pretty tightly which caused him to grunt with pain. This d
one I did the same with his feet and then repeated the whole thing with his mate on the other shelf.

  “If we’re not going to kill them don’t you think we should at least gag them?”

  Ronny asked, but I told him that I felt that if we closed the door, most sound would be deadened and there was little chance of them being heard.

  “Silent as the grave, you could say!” Ronny quipped.

  With the soldiers facing the outside of the tomb and knowing that he couldn’t be seen, he reached down behind the coffin and pulled out the despatch case.

  “Oh well at least the Holy Grail is still here anyway, shall we go?”

  I persuaded him that we should stop long enough for a smoke which we did, each of us at the same time helping our prisoners to a last smoke before we left them to their fate.

  Outside the tomb, we pulled the door to, I used the last of the wire to retie the gate to the railings and then we were on our way again.

  Cloud had covered the moon and it had become much darker. We set off down the path towards the canal as quickly as we dared, the encounter had slowed us down but we were still the right side of four o’clock so with luck we would have at least ninety minutes of relative darkness before we had to seek cover. I calculated that if we doubled up through the lanes we could maybe do six or eight miles, which would take us nearly halfway to Dunkirk.

  Nearing the end of the lane we could see light shining from the old stables, it was reflecting on a motorcycle parked on its stand next to a Kubel wagon, it looked as though the Germans had fixed the place up and were using it as some kind of guard post. I could understand their reasoning; it was close to a crossroads with the added attraction of a good view of the canal.

  Fortunately this time we were not intending to use the canal for our escape. At the bottom of the path we cautiously turned right towards the dead end.

  We were lucky, we had guessed right, although a dead end for vehicles, the road tapered off into a small path that ran along the bottom of the canal embankment. I turned to Ronny and asked him if he was ready for a trot, he didn’t need asking twice, for over an hour with pauses for a breather every ten minutes, we jogged along through the darkness.

  After about an hour, to our left, we saw a little bridge that carried the canal across the lane in front of us. We stopped, looked cautiously around everything seemed quiet enough, so we got out a torch and the map and found the bridge. I was really pleased, we had done just over six miles since we had started off, all that PT. at Aldershot must have paid off, and we weren’t even out of breath.

  Ronny studied the map for a while longer before eventually telling me that he thought that the embankment carried on for about another ten miles. He thought it would be just over another eight miles to the spot where we had parted company with Captain Forbes-Hamilton.

  We crossed the lane and followed the path again on the other side, trotting along silently in the darkness. I was thankful that Fishy wasn’t with us I imagined him waking up everyone for miles around, as he jogged along, moaning about being forced to run.

  In the trees around us birds started their first tentative calls and as if spurred on by this warning of the impending dawn, without any discussion we gave up the ten minute stops and just kept on running.

  After about another twenty five minutes or so we realised that it was becoming just too light to carry on so we slowed down and started to look for somewhere to hide up. The other side of the path to the embankment had changed from field to thicket woods and back again several times during our journey, now it appeared to be woodland, skirted by wire fencing.

  “Come on.” said Ronny and climbed over. I followed him and we found a path that led into the wood, blackbirds shouted out their disapproval of us as we passed below them, eventually they must have tired of it and fell silent.

  It was much darker in the wood so Ronny used his torch to enable him to use his map and compass and determine our position. Once he had checked his reckoning, he showed me where we were. So far so good, cutting out the breaks had meant we had added another four miles to the total. The map showed a small farm on the other side of the wood, we had a whispered conversation, whether to risk trying French hospitality, or staying put in the wood, we decided on staying in the wood.

  We found an area with a lot of undergrowth and looked around for a possible hiding place. Between two elm trees I noticed a lot of smaller bushes; a quick look revealed that most of the growth was towards the top and that we could easily get underneath it and get out of sight.

  Inside the hide we spread out our ground sheets and got comfortable. I pulled out one of the tins of food and broke in half one of the bars. I took a drink of water and whispered to Ronny that it must be breakfast time. We both ate the high energy food which tasted of peanuts with a slightly minty flavour and we had a piece of chocolate for desert. Throwing caution to the wind we finished off with a cigarette and then tossed up for who would sleep first, I won but we agreed that as we were both dead tired the first sleep for each of us would only be an hour, just to take the edge off the tiredness.

  As the day wore on we took longer periods of sleep until around midday Ronny woke from his sleep and we agreed we were well enough rested. Lunch was the same as breakfast but we did without the cigarette knowing that either the smell or the smoke could give us away if anyone was looking.

  Other than as a secure area to sleep in, our hideout had little to recommend it and neither of us relished the thought of spending another nine or ten hours in there, but we knew it would be foolish to venture out in the daylight.

  Ronny was beginning to annoy me, constantly checking the map as if he expected to find a secret passage that would take us to the coast.

  “Why do you keep looking at that?” I whispered, hinting that he was getting on my nerves. He replied that he was trying to memorise it so that we wouldn’t have to use it when we were on the move. I felt a little embarrassed that I hadn’t realised, that as with most things he did, there would be a good reason.

  “Good idea.” I whispered as a sort of apology and then fell silent again.

  I wanted a fag and a cup of tea, I was stiff from inactivity, I had nothing to read and I couldn’t even whistle, worse still, it was only just after two p.m.

  “Only another seven hours of this,” I whispered “then we can go for a walk.” We played I-Spy for a while, which was good because it made us keep looking around, eventually the game petered out as it was not much fun when all you could do was whisper and most words began with T for tree.

  At a clearing about thirty yards away a vixen appeared with three cubs, we were entertained, watching the cubs’ play-fighting whilst she went to look for food.

  She came back shortly with a small rodent, probably a vole, though it was difficult to be sure from this distance. Whatever it was, it was still alive and she left the cubs playing with it whilst she went off again. The next time she came back she was carrying a small rabbit, which she put down whilst she smelt the air around her.

  Whether she had got our scent or something else we could not be sure but she picked up the rabbit carcase and went back into the undergrowth followed by the cubs. One carrying the vole, which was no longer moving and the other two falling over each other as they continued to play.

  Our own senses were now heightened, we sat there silently, looking and listening, both of us holding our Thompson’s. After a few minutes we caught the faint sound of voices, as we listened we decided they were getting closer, I whispered to Ronny not to use the guns unless we had to.

  A couple of minutes later the owners of the voices came into view, two German soldiers were strolling down one of the paths that led through the wood. Their rifles were slung over their shoulders and they were talking quite loudly, as they came closer we saw that they were only about seventeen or eighteen years old, one of them, tall and thin, wore spectacles and had a lot of acne, it was doubtful if he had ever shaved. The other considerably shorter and considera
bly fatter, had a ruddy complexion and was chewing on some kind of chocolate that he held by the wrapper, while he made a point of kicking up as many dead leaves as he could as he walked along. They stopped almost in front of our hide, standing on the path about five yards away and spoke rapidly to each other. The fat one finished off his chocolate, threw the wrapper down and leaning on a nearby tree began to urinate.

  From some distance away we heard a shout, to which the thin one shouted back, “Nein Herr Feldwebel “And another shout from the distance got a second reply of “Yavol Herr Feldwebel.”

  After Fatty had finished his pee and buttoned his fly they both unshouldered their rifles and walked off towards where the shouts had come from.

  When they had disappeared from view Ronny whispered to me.

  “You’ll never believe this, but I think that was a search party.”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “Because as near as I could get to understanding it, between mouthfuls of chocolate, the fat one was saying that the Sergeant must be mad if he thought anyone would be stupid enough to hide in a wood when there were all these farms around, where you could get food. Then his mate said something like, as far as he was concerned he would rather have a stroll through the woods any day than spend the afternoon washing dishes. Somehow you know I don’t think Hans and Fritz were what you would call crack troops.” Ronny finished off with a smile.

  “And let’s be thankful for that eh?” I replied.

  If it was a search party, had they found our two Germans in the tomb I wondered, or was it perhaps them they were looking for? Either way we could do no more than stay where we were, which is exactly what we did until nine o’clock that night.

  The wood was dark again now; and we’d had as much inactivity as we could take.

  We packed up what kit we had and I decided to put the papers into the inside map pocket of my jacket and leave the despatch case hidden in the bushes. We came out of the hide, stiff and aching; cautiously we made our way through the wood, back over the fence and onto the path at the bottom of the embankment. It was a relief to trot along in the darkness, the jogging motion loosening some of the stiffness out of our bodies. Eight miles, Ronny had calculated the distance to where we had left the canal before, the path was easy to follow and was in darkness thanks to the shadow cast by the embankment so we could make good progress.