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  We all drifted back into the routine of camp life, with its kit inspections and guard duties. It turned out that Jock Scott and his crew were billeted in with us and the other two remaining beds were allocated to two other blokes from our company who were all that was left of their original gun crew. We all got on well, Jock was careful enough to impose enough discipline to ensure we were never on the wrong side of the officers.

  After a few days we were all to find ourselves being retrained in various facets of warfare although not necessarily altogether, for example, Harry and myself had been selected to improve our small Arms techniques on the camp rifle range, whereas Fishy had been sent off to Banbury for a three day course on transmitting and receiving coded radio messages.

  Ronny and Jack were still within the camp confines and were, for whatever reason, learning to ride a motorcycle.

  So, because it had been a while since we had done anything together, it caused some speculation amongst us, when towards the end of our first week we were told to report to the administration block to a Lieutenant Baker.

  “Probably going to teach us to be flipping typists now I reckon.” Said Fishy, as we walked across to the block, but no one really listened to him. When we arrived I came to attention and saluted the Duty Sergeant at the reception desk and told him our names. He told us to remove our caps and go down the corridor to room 3 A, which he informed me was the third door on the left. I knocked on the door and a voice inside shouted for us to come in.

  Inside the room several tables had been put together to form a bigger one and around it were spaced eight chairs.

  At one of the tables sat Lieutenant Baker, I guessed he was in his mid-thirties, but with a sort of baby face. He had a rosy, rather than ruddy complexion and did not appear to shave. In front of him on the table were a large writing pad and a fountain pen. A large jug of water and several glasses were also to be seen. More glasses presumably for us were spread around the other tables. He looked up at us, none of us were wearing caps so we didn’t salute but we all stood to attention, he stood up and spoke to us.

  “Sit down chaps please, my name as you probably know is Lieutenant Baker, now you should know that I’m an Intelligence officer but not with your regiment you understand. I’m actually from the Intelligence Corps.” We all looked from one to the other. He went on to tell us that there was no need for us to be alarmed he was merely interested in our exit from France. He said that he was in the picture about the situation up until we were ordered to evacuate our position at Carvin but wanted to know what we did afterwards. He told us to take it in turns, starting with myself, and then going around the table in turn. He told us that we should take our time because he wanted to make notes and also because he didn’t want us to miss anything out. “Help yourselves to water if you need it.” He said, sitting back down again.

  I started us off, telling the story until we got to the train line, then Harry, who was sitting next to me took over the tale, chronicling the tale as far as the old stable.

  Fishy then took over, talking about from when we got to the tomb to when we left, omitting any reference to the Captain that we had met. The Lieutenant stopped us while he caught up with his notes and then Jack resumed, telling how we got to Dunkirk, Ronny finished the story detailing how we stole the boat and how Fishy got us back over the channel.

  “Well, well done you chaps! Very commendable, you did very well you know. Now then, I’m going to need to fill in a few gaps here and there, so what say we break for a spot of lunch and then we’ll resume this afternoon, shall we say one thirty?”.

  We walked over to the cookhouse listening to Fishy complimenting himself all the way over, on how well he had steered the tale away from, the ‘us meeting the Captain’ in the churchyard and how the Lieutenant was too wet behind the ears to catch on.

  By 13.30 hours we were already back in the room when Lieutenant Baker returned from his lunch. There were tobacco tin lids on the tables which served as ash trays; we were all having a smoke when he came back into the room. We made to put them out but he stopped us and told us to carry on, he even apologised saying he had meant to tell us we could smoke during the morning session.

  “Right Oh then, I think what we need to do now is go back to the part about the churchyard,” speaking directly to Fishy, “Now then, you Gunner Thomas, Ted isn’t it? You told me about meeting the priest who helped you to escape. Now I want you to think back, did you meet anyone else about that time?”

  Fishy stroked his chin and appeared to think about it for quite a while before looking the Lieutenant straight in the eye and saying “Not as I recall Sir. We just met the priest and later on the Captain of the barge.”

  “Hmm…. and none of the rest of you met anyone then?” asked the Lieutenant. It was obvious he knew a lot more than he was saying.

  I realised there was no point in trying to hold out any longer. “Well there was the Captain, Sir.” I said trying my best to make it sound as though the thought had just occurred to me.

  “Oh yes of course, the Captain.” said Ronny eager to back me up.

  “Fancy us….” Harry got no further, with the Lieutenant cutting him short.

  “Gentlemen please… Spare me the theatricals; let’s just say it slipped your mind eh?”

  Lieutenant Baker lifted his briefcase onto the table and took out a photograph which he held, facing us.

  “Is this your Captain?”

  We all agreed that it was “So would one of you like to tell me what happened to him and please don’t forget anything this time, I really do need to get back to London soon.”

  I could see no point in trying to hide anything, so I did my best to recount the story, telling how we first saw him. Highlighting the times he came close to getting us into trouble, even including the fact that he’d put me on a charge for insubordination. I said that we did genuinely get separated from him in the dark, admitting that we didn’t try too hard to find him again.

  “Did he tell you his name?” Asked the Lieutenant, I told him that he hadn’t.

  “His name is Captain Forbes-Hamilton, His Christian name is Alasdair, he is the fourth Baronet of Fairhampton his father’s a brigadier general and I tell you this in confidence gentlemen, he is accusing you of cowardice and says you jeopardised his safety. However, in your favour, most of your story would seem to check out, it’s just a pity that you didn’t mention meeting Forbes-Hamilton right away, it could look, to a Court Martial, that you were trying to hide something.

  “Court Martial?” I said.

  “Oh don’t worry about that just now, it may never happen.”

  He looked across to us all and smiled, “thanks for your time men, you’re free to go.”

  We were all a bit frightened by the fact that Lieutenant Baker had mentioned a Court Martial, however when we discussed it we thought that we hadn’t done that much wrong, despite what Forbes-Hamilton had said.

  Our officer in charge since we had been on the camp was a first Lieutenant, named Barrington, he was a bit longer in the tooth and was a bit more experienced than some of the second Lieutenants’ who were floating about the place and so with this in mind, I asked Jock to fix it for me to see him.

  After parade on Saturday morning Jock told me to go straight over to Barrington’s office where he would see me.

  The interview was not a success. Barrington told me that he was obviously aware of Lieutenant Baker’s interview with us although he had been told not to get involved. In short, it was out of his hands, as I was leaving, he deliberately let it slip that it was not over and that someone from the Intelligence Corps would definitely be back to see us again in the not too distant future.

  The not too distant future was much sooner than we expected. We had the day off on Saturday and in the evening went into town for pictures and a pint.

  We were back in the camp well before our passes ran out, at least four of us were. Harry had met a married woman, who’s husband was away on Atlantic co
nvoys, she was at least fifteen years older than him but neither seemed to mind and I think they both knew that it would only last until our next posting.

  On Sunday morning we were all clear headed when, after breakfast, Jock told us to again report to the dreaded room 3A.

  We trooped over; once again I knocked at the door. Again the voice called for us to come in and sit down, Lieutenant Baker lost no time in telling us that we were free to smoke. We all sat down and the Lieutenant introduced us to two other people who were in the room, sitting at each side of him.

  “Right chaps! Let me introduce you to my two colleagues who are accompanying me today. They are; turning to a man in his mid fifties who was out of uniform and was dressed very much the country squire in a tweed jacket, woollen roll neck jumper, corduroy trousers, and very shiny, spit-polished reddish brown, brogue shoes.

  The man concerned was leaning back in his chair, puffing on a straight brier pipe. “This is my boss Major Peter Jackson, gentlemen, like me, he is with the Intelligence Corps.”

  The Major looked across to us and nodded.

  The Lieutenant turned to his other side where a very attractive woman in her mid forties sat. She was well made up, wearing a Wren officer’s uniform; she sat very straight, and smoked a filter tipped cigarette that showed traces of her lipstick on the filter. “This gentlemen, is Commander Rachel Harrison from the Royal Navy intelligence, we often work together, and she has agreed to help us out today.” “Good morning chaps.” said the Commander, flashing us a charming smile.

  Introductions over the Major sat upright and addressed us, he reminded us that we were covered by the Official Secrets’ Act and explained that we were the subject of an investigation, the nature of which he was not at liberty to, nor did he wish to disclose to us. Turning his attention to Harry and Jack he told them that he might need them later but for now they were to return to our barracks. When they were going out of the door he reminded them not to discuss with anyone what had gone on so far.

  After they’d left, the Major spoke again, telling us that we needed to be interviewed separately and that we would split up into separate rooms. Fishy left with the Commander, Ronny with the Lieutenant and I stayed there with the Major. The pipe had long since been discarded and from an inside pocket he pulled out a cigarette-case, opened it, took out a filter tipped cigarette and offered me one, I told him, “I preferred my own, .without the spats.” but accepted a light from his silver cigarette lighter. He questioned me again in an unhurried, relaxed manner.

  In front of him he had some notes which he didn’t let me see, they were presumably prepared from the Lieutenant’s original interview. He spent most of the time asking about our time in the tomb and our journey, up to the time we boarded the ‘Stella De Mer,’ he didn’t seem remotely interested in anything else other than perhaps just a few odd questions about Captain Forbes-Hamilton. The Major was a very professional interrogator and asked lots of questions about why we chose to go this way instead of that way? Could I show him where, on a map he’d produced? What was my reasoning for not throwing the grenade into the German guard post in the lane? Did I now regret throwing away an opportunity of killing a couple of Hun? And then he would go back and ask the same questions but in a different way so that different answers were possible.

  Eventually he came to the end of his questioning and smiled at me as if relieved to be done. He asked me to wait and left the room leaving me feeling drained. Shortly afterward Fishy came into the room, sat down and lit a fag. “Well I’m buggered if I know what that was all about?” He said “Don’t know what Navy she’s in, but she knows bugger all about the sea.”

  “Why what did she ask you?” I said frowning.

  “About how I found my way back without a chart, couldn’t understand that you could just use a compass on its own if you knew roughly where you were in the first place. Wanted to know if I could get back there? I told her if the Frenchies wanted their flipping boat back they could bloody well come back and fetch it, but she kept going on about could I get back in there. I told her course I could, its how I used to earn my living. Remembering how to get back to places, you have to, if you’re fishing. If there’s no fish in one place you have to remember where they were the last time and then you have to find your way there. It might all look the same but it’s not if you know what to look for and how to read the sea.

  Ronny came in shortly after accompanied by Lieutenant Baker. “Ok chaps, Baker said if you want to pop into room four B we’ve arranged some sandwiches and tea, we’ll take a break for lunch now.

  They joined us for lunch, all three of them, which meant that any chance of us discussing what, had gone on was out of the question. The Major said very little, other than to comment on the food that had been provided which he didn’t think was too good and which we thought was blooming marvellous. Lieutenant Baker made up for this by talking about how well the evacuation of Dunkirk had been carried out and how it was incredible that over three hundred thousand men had been rescued. For her part the Commander was telling us about the difficulties the Navy were having, getting enough ships to protect the Atlantic convoys.

  After he had finished his lunch the Major sat down on a chair, he then used his foot to pull another chair closer, placing both feet on that one and promptly fell asleep. I asked if they would mind if we went outside to get a smoke and some fresh air. The Commander said that it was an excellent idea and said she would come with us so that we could show her around the camp. We headed for the exit to the admin hut leaving Lieutenant Baker reading his notes.

  After the walk, which again presented no opportunity for us to discuss anything, we returned to the admin block refreshed.

  Without hesitation Commander Harrison asked us to go back into room 3A and wait there, she walked off down the corridor presumably to join her colleagues.

  About half an hour passed during which we sat smoking and talking, none too loudly, Fishy putting forward his theory that we were probably being considered for a medal, the other two of us looking at him as if he’d lost his senses.

  The officers came back into the room and sat down, this time the Major sitting in the middle chair, he spent a little time sorting through his notes, and eventually he cleared his throat and began to talk to us.

  “Well men, we have considered everything that you have told us and we think that here is chance for us to help one another, if you are agreeable that is?” we looked at him puzzled, we didn’t have a clue what he was talking about. Sensing our confusion he began again. “Look it’s fairly simple, on the one hand we have this chap, Forbes-Hamilton, who I have to tell you, is not without influence in court so to speak. He’s complaining that you deserted him leaving him alone in the face of the enemy. On the other hand we have a group of five young chaps who used a lot of resourcefulness and considerable skill to get themselves out of enemy territory to get home and fight again. Who does one believe eh?”

  Well we believe you of course, but it may take a bit of persuading with the powers that be. Do you see the dilemma?”

  We were all stunned that they could even think we’d done anything wrong.

  “But sir! I said starting to defend us but he held up his hand.

  “Bombardier, we’re here to help you, we’ve discussed it and think we can see a way out for you. Going back to what I said earlier, providing that is we help one another. Let me tell you our solution. We will offer Captain Forbes-Hamilton an incentive that will persuade him to drop his complaint against you; in return you do a little job for us, What do you say Men?”

  “A little job sir”? Ronny said raising an eyebrow. Commander Harrison spoke next “Let me fill in the spaces for you if I may.” she leaned back in her seat and lit a cigarette and then continued.

  “What it is chaps, our little department up at the combined Intelligence office is responsible for doing little jobs that are too small for the services to be bothered with. You can imagine the sort of thing I’m sure, parachut
e drops into an area to check out a landing site, going in by sub to see if a beach is suitable for landing craft. I’m sure you can imagine the sort of things that go on?”

  “But what’s that got to do with us?” I asked.

  “Well by your actions you’ve proved yourselves to be just the sort of resourceful chaps we need and if you combine that with the local knowledge required for this job, you can see that you are just what we’re looking for.”

  Fishy sat bolt upright he was starting to get annoyed, I knew the signs I had seen them often enough in the past.

  “Sir,” he said ignoring the Commander and looking at the Major “begging the Majors pardon, why don’t you just tell us what you want us to do?”

  “I can do that for you Gunner Thomas” said the Major with a slight smile “We want you to nip back to France and bring Captain Forbes-Hamilton’s brief case back.”

  No one spoke for what seemed an age, eventually Ronny said “And if we refuse?”

  “Well nothing,” said the Major “it’s just I’m not sure we will be able to get the Captain to drop the desertion charges and then God knows what sort of mess we will have, and of course your other two mates.” he glanced at his papers,

  “Henshaw and Hampton will also be involved.”

  “So in effect, we have no choice, so what happens if we say yes?” I said, doing little to try and hide my anger.

  “We take you away for a bit of training, take you into France, bring you back out again and then if you want to, you can come back here, job done. Oh and by the way you’d all get promotion to Sergeant, all our people hold at least that rank and you’d still keep that, after the job was done, so what do you think? Want to give it a go?” said the Major, as if he was discussing what we wanted for tea?

  “Can we have five minutes to talk about it sir?” said Ronny.

  “Take ten if you like.” answered the Major, starting to fill the pipe.

  Outside the hut we lit cigarettes and looked at each other “What do you think Bomb?” said Fishy.