Not Flag or Fail Page 5

  Not waiting to be announced, the priest pushed open the door and came inside. Fishy had awakened us all with his shouts and we all looked at the priest who gently pushed the door closed behind him. He was perhaps in his mid forties, a lean frame and athletic build.

  “Bonjour mes amies. Saïd the priest “Bonjour father.” said Ronny answering on our behalf.

  “Bonne Vous parle Francais” replied the priest.

  “un peu, mais mes amies parle seul anglais.”

  “Ok I will speak in English then, it is not a problem for Me.” said the priest, turning to us all he spread his hands as if in a blessing.

  “Welcome to my Church gentlemen. You do well to stay hidden, les boshe are all around our town, so I have bought for you a few things to make your stay more comfortable.”

  He took the bag off his shoulder and went down the steps to the bottom. Sitting on one of the bottom shelves he opened the bag and took from it long sticks of French bread which he placed on a tea towel on top of the coffin. Next he took out a slab of cheese, a little butter, two onions, a bottle of water and two brown bottles that looked like beer.

  “I have bought you water and cider, I must warn you that the cider is our own and is very strong so be careful not to drink too much.”

  “Father how did you know we were here?” I asked.

  “Oh that is easy. I like to watch the sunrise from the bell tower; it is a time of the day that I like to spend alone before I celebrate the Mass each morning. I watched as you came into the grounds. Don’t worry; I stayed there long enough to satisfy myself that no one else saw you, so you are quite safe. After Mass I had to send my housekeeper out on an errand so that I could steal my own food to bring to you. What are your plans gentlemen, do you plan to join your comrades in Dunkirk?”

  “Well that’s what we are hoping to do, yes.” I replied.

  “That may be more difficult than you realise, les boshe are setting up check points all along the route but if you wish to put your trust in me I may be able to help you to get away.” Said the priest, he filled a pipe with tobacco as he spoke.

  “Some of my parishioners are barge men, I will if you wish, go and see if I can get them to take you in, at least for some of the way, it will probably be the safest way for you to travel.”

  He lit the pipe and filled the tomb with the smell of his tobacco, which was pungent and sickly. None of us complained it was I suppose technically, his tomb. After he had spoken for a while longer, during which he had relit the pipe several times, we were glad to see the pipe, if not him, bid us farewell. Ronny watched him go down the path still carrying the shoulder bag. He turned left out of the gate and headed off in the direction we had come from, going back towards the canal.

  After he had gone we made a meal of the things he had bought us and drank the cider, we then settled down for another snooze. Ronny gave me a prod with his rifle from across the space between us and nodded towards Fishy. Who, overcome at last by fatigue and no doubt helped by the cider, had finally nodded off on the steps, so speaking quietly, we organised a guard of sorts, changing every couple of hours, using the top two shelves, in order that we could watch through the slits in both sides of the tomb.

  I had slept for a couple of hours, when Jack woke me to take my turn on watch. He told me that they had seen the priest come back after an hour or so but he had gone straight to the church, not even glancing at the tomb as he had approached. Well we could do no more than wait for him to let us know the outcome when he felt it was time.

  If he did not come back by dark then we would set out on our own again.

  Outside it was a pleasant, late spring day, it was warm and sunny, from my limited viewpoint, I watched as the shadows cast by the gravestones started to lengthen.

  “Hello” said Ronny, who was looking out in the other direction, “come and have a look at this Bomb.” I climbed down from my shelf and back up again on the other side to join Ronny.

  “Where am I looking then?” I asked. “Over there just to the right of the entrance, can you see him?”

  “Oh yes I can see him alright, blimey what’s he think he’s doing?”

  We watched as a figure, dressed in what from this distance appeared to be British officers uniform, sat with his back to the wall and lit a cigarette.

  “Oh that’s great!” I said to no one in particular, “if he doesn’t get himself caught he’s going to bring Jerry down on top of the rest of us.”

  Ronny asked if he should go and get him, but I told him to wait there and wake the others while I tried to get over to him without being seen. I took my rifle and Fishy, who was by now awake again, opened the door for me. Cautiously I put my head out and looked up and down the path. For the time being it was clear, I took the broken lock off the gate, shoved it into my pocket, ran across the path and ducked down behind a couple of biggish grave stones. Keeping up this pattern of looking around and moving a few yards at a time between the stones I eventually got to within a few yards of him.

  “Sir” I shouted, not knowing what else to call him, although now that I was closer to him I could tell that he was a Captain. I raised myself slightly above the stone and beckoned for him to come over to where I was, incredibly he stood up picked up a small case that was by his side and simply strolled the short distance to where I was hidden.

  “Get down Sir please” I said “someone may see us”.

  “Jolly good show corporal have you been sent to find me?” he said stooping down next to me

  “Er not exactly Sir Can you stay down and follow me we need to get out of view Sir if you don’t mind” I said and set off back to the tomb.

  I looked behind pleased to see that he was at least following but doing so almost standing up; I had to get him inside for all our sakes.

  Fishy opened the door and I gave him the lock which he put back onto the gate whilst I manoeuvred the Captain down the steps. Ronny and Harry were on the shelf watching the path down to the gate and Jack was looking towards the church, Fishy came back in.

  “Looks as though we’ve got away with it Bomb, can’t see anyone else around.” he said as he took up his position back on the top step.

  “So chaps what are you up to eh?” said the Captain.

  “We’re trying to make our way to Dunkirk Sir,” I said “how about yourself, are you?”

  “Heavens no, I’ve only been here a couple of days, I have some despatches for Lord Gort, you know GHQ?”

  “Lord Gort has gone home Sir, we are retreating, hasn’t anyone told you?” I replied looking around at the lads incredulously.

  He went on to tell us that he had been flown in by Lysander two days earlier, he had been met by a driver in a Humber staff car who was to take him to GHQ in Ypres. On the way there they had been strafed by ME 109’s and although the car had been hit, both he and the driver had survived. However sometime later they had got separated and he had spent the last day or so on his own, trying to find his way to Ypres but had come to the conclusion that someone must be turning the signposts around, as this was the third time he had passed this church.

  I gave him some water to drink and he lit another cigarette, I got black looks from a couple of the lads because I had not let them smoke, fearing that the smell might give us away.

  “You know this is very fortunate,” he said “because now you chaps can help me get to Ypres.” he looked quite pleased with himself when this idea came to him and I watched Ronny roll his eyes at Fishy.

  “Pardon me Sir,” I said, I had already figured that he was perhaps not the brightest officer we were likely to meet. “That isn’t really possible, firstly because, as I said earlier, GHQ is no longer at Ypres and secondly Sir, we are under very strict orders to make our way to Dunkirk, but Sir, if you want to come with us you are very welcome.”

  He looked at me with a slight smile on his face and then like a parent explaining something to a slow child he spoke to me.

  “Corporal, you seem to forget that I a
m an officer and when an officer gives you an order it is your duty to comply. Now then, I understand what you say about GHQ being moved, but in times like this, one has to improvise. It is our duty to find where it has been relocated to, now do you understand me?”

  I was trying very hard to phrase an answer that wasn’t going to upset him further, when Ronny spoke up, using his best public school accent.

  “Permission to speak Sir?”

  The Captain looked across to Ronny feeling more comfortable in the company of someone with his own accent and drawled “Carry on Private”

  “Well Sir, I think what the Bombardier is trying to tell you Sir is that GHQ has been relocated to Dunkirk, which is why we have been ordered to go there.”

  “Good show Private, now why the hell couldn’t you have told me that eh corp.… or Bombardier I suppose I should say, I hadn’t noticed that you chaps were artillery types.”

  I looked across at Ronny who had I think saved the day, out of the Captains vision he slowly shook his head.

  “We need a plan then.” said the Captain “How far away is Dunkirk? Perhaps we should be setting off now.”

  This was going to be so difficult, he had no conception of the danger we were in and it was obvious that we were not going to get it across to him. He was in his late twenties, perhaps twenty eight or nine and although older than any of us he lacked the common sense that had enabled us to get this far.

  I wondered just what connections had got him his present rank. He definitely hadn’t achieved it on merit and I was guessing that his driver had given him the slip at the first opportunity he had come across.

  One thing that was obvious though, was that whatever I said to him was not going to go down well, so I asked Ronny to tell him what we planned to do. He seemed to accept things better if it came from Ronny; he leaned back against one of the bottom coffins, smoked another cigarette and eventually dozed off.

  We watched as the townsfolk went along the path to the church for an evening service and after he had bid them farewell we watched as the priest came down the path with the shoulder bag and again brought us more food and water though this time there was no cider. We introduced him to our officer and from his reaction we could tell that he was no more impressed with him than we were.

  As we ate he explained that there was a barge already tied up on the canal waiting for us and that once it was properly dark he would return to take us down there and introduce us to the master. After the meal, we settled down again and he left us to await his return after dark.

  Thinking that I should know better, I eventually plucked up the courage to ask the Captain what he intended to do with his dispatch case. For a long moment he looked at me blankly, “What do you mean Bombardier? What am I going to do with it?”

  “Well Sir I was thinking, you can’t give it to Lord Gort because he’s returned to England, so I thought perhaps if it was sensitive we should perhaps destroy it?”

  “Good God man! Don’t you see, this is most important, destroy it, no indeed no… My orders are to deliver it to Lord Gort personally.” he drawled, failing to see the hopelessness of his task.

  “I think what the Bombardier means Sir,” said Ronny again trying to prevent things getting out of hand, “is that if the material is sensitive we might be safer destroying it”?

  The Captain looked at us as if we’d all gone mad. “No, you just don’t seem to understand, any of you. My orders do not include destroying the documents, no one said I had to destroy them, don’t you see that?”

  “Yes Sir, I understand, but what if we don’t make it to Dunkirk, what if we are captured by the enemy and the dispatches fall into enemy hands Sir? What then?” said Ronny trying so hard to get through?

  “Don’t you think I have enough problems Private? Without you adding to them.” snapped the Captain.

  “Perhaps you’d permit me to make a suggestion then Sir?” continued Ronny, still maintaining a tone of calm subservience, although actually treating the Captain very much like a child.

  “We could hide the case in here? In the tomb and then when it was safe for you to do so you could come back to get it”.

  “That’s a brilliant suggestion Private. Yes that’s what we’ll do, can’t understand why you’re not in charge here instead of that Bombardier who hasn’t had an original idea since I got here.

  Not wanting to give him time to change his mind Ronny took the dispatch case and shoved it down behind the coffin on one of the middle shelves.

  Dusk was coming rapidly to the churchyard now, we would not have long to wait for our departure.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The speed with which the darkness fell could be easily gauged by Fishy’s uneasiness.

  He was the one in our crew who was usually the least bothered by any turn of events but true to his earlier predictions he really was having difficulty remaining calm as the tomb became ever darker.

  I was wondering if we were going to have to actually physically restrain him, when Harry announced that the priest was on his way towards us.

  He again tapped on the door and came straight in

  “My friends are you ready?” he asked.

  “Yes father we are ready to go, how do you propose to get us there? I think it might be too risky for us all to go together.”

  “I have the same thoughts.” he replied “So what I propose is this, the barge is about fifteen minutes away when you are walking, you already know where the canal is, I propose to take the first two of you. One of which should be my nervous friend here.” He said with a smile, squeezing Fishy’s shoulder. “Then you others leave also in twos, after intervals of five minutes. I can return some of the way to take each group, the last part of the way, to the barge, are we agreed?”

  “That sounds Ok to me father.” I said, and told Harry that he would be going first with Fishy. They left the tomb and quickly disappeared into the gloom; I left the door open, wider than usual listening for anything unusual but heard nothing. I looked at my watch and then said to the Captain, “Might I suggest that you go next Sir, with Gunner Regis?”

  “That suits me Bombardier are you ready Regis?” he said moving to the door.

  “Erm I think we have to hang on for a few moments yet Sir.” Ronny drawled

  “What? Oh yes, cloak and dagger stuff, what!” said the Captain, chuckling loudly and putting the fear of God into those of us left in the tomb.

  A couple of minutes later I gave Ronny the word, wished him good luck and they set off through the door and off down the path. I couldn’t help but feel guilty saddling Ronny with the Captain but it was our best hope of keeping him under some sort of control.

  Five minutes later Jack and I set off. The night was still and there was a new moon shining, it was reasonably dark, particularly when clouds passed in front of it. Jack and I kept up a brisk pace but remained cautious. On occasions, dependant on the fall of the land, we could see the moon reflected in the canal at the bottom of the hill, there appeared to be nothing in our way.

  We were getting close to the old stable now and I thought that I’d caught a glance of the priest on his way back to meet us. We were just beginning to relax a little when we heard the sound of a powerful motorcycle. Moments later we saw the slot of yellow light from the headlight of a BMW motorbike and sidecar. It came to a stop at the end of the track leading to the canal. On the bike was a helmeted rider and in the sidecar a passenger, in the usual German helmet, sitting holding a machine pistol. Jack and I took cover behind a wall and watched just out of earshot, as a moment later the priest was stopped by the two Germans. A muffled conversation took place and we could see the priest start to relax and heard laughter from the little group. Out came the pipe and even from this distance, about thirty yards away, we caught the odd whiff of his awful tobacco.

  Eventually the rider kicked his machine back into life and we watched as the Germans continued on their way, with much waving and shouted goodbyes from both the soldiers and th
e priest. He walked on towards us but when he got level with us gestured with his hand for us to stay hidden and whispered to us to stay quiet. He continued walking up the hill towards the church, how he knew what was going to happen I couldn’t have guessed but a couple of minutes later back down the path came the motorcycle. This time it turned towards us, as it followed the road up towards the church. They drew slowly level with the priest and then accelerated past him, waving and shouting to him as they did so and eventually disappeared from view.

  We watched him wait for a few minutes and then turn and trot back to where we were still hidden.

  “Come quickly we don’t have much time.” he said, heading off towards the canal path.

  “Father,” I said, trotting along-side of him “how did you know they would come back?”

  “Perhaps it was guidance from our heavenly father” he said, then turning to me with a smile he said, “Or maybe it was just because I knew the road they first took was not for vehicles, what you English call a dead end eh?”

  We arrived at the barge, it was bigger than I had expected, about sixty foot long and at least ten feet wide with a wheelhouse at the rear. We were met there by a shabbily dressed man, who the priest introduced as Herve the barge -master. We were quickly taken on board, still accompanied by the priest, we were led below. The priest told us that Herve spoke no English but would communicate to us using Ronny as an interpreter.

  The barge appeared to be fully loaded with coal; however they had cleverly cleared a space and built a sort of shelter, covered by the coal and a large tarpaulin, making it look as though it was all part of the cargo.

  In there, Jack and I found the rest of our crew and the Captain. The barge-master spoke to the priest, who came in to say his goodbyes to us, shaking hands with us all and wishing us luck. The boats, diesels, were already idling; and almost as soon as the priest had left us we felt movement as the barge got under way. It was fairly dark in our hideaway but we felt ourselves into comfortable positions.

  “Is this better than the tomb then Fish?” I asked, beginning to relax a little.