Hearts of Stone (17 page)

‘We’ve given the fascists a beating they’ll not forget,’ Andreas began with a smile. ‘I estimate that we’ve killed or wounded a third of their number, at least. That still gives them the advantage in terms of numbers and the next time they will be ready for us. It’ll be a far harder fight, make no mistake about that.’ He looked at each man in turn. ‘Are you ready to do your duty?’

‘To the end!’ Stakiserou replied fiercely, bunching his fist. ‘We’ll show ’em, sir.’

The others chorused their agreement.

‘Good. I expected nothing less.’ Andreas nodded and then turned his attention to more immediate issues. ‘We have plenty of ammunition for the rifles, but we’re down to less than five hundred rounds for the machine guns, so, Petty Officer Stakiserou, I would be grateful if you were to expend your ammunition in a more conscientious manner this time. If you continue spraying lead at the Germans the way you did, you threaten to bankrupt our country.’

The sailors laughed as Stakiserou affected a scowl. Andreas continued, ‘We have used most of the grenades too, so use what is left sparingly. There are two for each of us. Make every one count, and every bullet.’ His expression became more serious. ‘I won’t lie to you about our chances. Some of us, maybe all of us, will not live out the day. But I will not throw our lives away. We’ll hold them off for as long as we can. If we run out of ammunition, or they look like getting round our position, I’ll fire the flare. You fall back to the lorry as soon as you see it. Don’t stop for anything. Or anyone. We’ll have to leave our wounded behind and hope that the Germans honour their obligation to treat enemy casualties. That goes for me too. I don’t want any heroes. Greece will need every man that she can save from the battlefield to take our country back. It is our duty to fight and survive to fight again. Don’t forget that . . . Any man who gives his life in vain will be on fatigues for a month.’

Stakiserou roared with laughter and Papadakis looked confused for a moment before he got the joke and joined in cheerfully, his mirth making him look more foolish than ever and Andreas felt a stab of pity that he was putting the youth in danger. He would rather send him back down to the submarine but now every man was needed to hold the Germans back and buy time for the submarine to be made ready to sail. He glanced down the slope towards the bay and could see the tiny figures of men toiling away to load supplies and rolling the fuel drums on to the jetty to fill the
Papanikolis
’s tanks. A safe distance away the supplies that the captain had decided would have to be left behind were being heaped in a pile, ready to be set on fire. On the other side of the bay, in contrast, the people of the fishing village had come out to sit and watch and Andreas could not help a passing feeling of guilt at the prospect of abandoning them to the German invaders. But that could not be helped.

He turned back to his men. ‘Go to your positions and watch for the enemy. There will be no signal this time. Open fire as soon as you see them. But make sure that is what you see. I do not want any man shooting at a rabbit by accident and giving our position away. Only shoot when you can see them clearly. Good luck.’

The small rearguard shook hands with each other and muttered a few words of encouragement before they made their way to their places. Andreas surveyed the ground again. It was not as favourable as the first ambush site in that the Greeks would not be able to exploit the high ground and have a crossfire. However, the cliff to their left and the steep ground to the right meant that the Germans would have to approach on a front of no more than fifty paces wide, through the scrub either side of the road. The Greeks were on a slight rise covered in olive trees with an old drystone wall running in front. The wall was adequate protection from small-arms fire and would serve to conceal their number. Once again Andreas was reminded of his ancient forebears at Thermopylae and could only hope that he and his men fared better than their Spartan forebears.

He took his place in the centre of the line, between the two machine-gun crews, and the last two riflemen guarded the flanks. The lorry was parked fifty metres away, where the road curved behind the olive trees. The warm spring day was coming to an end as the late afternoon sun dipped towards the mountains at their backs. He had prepared a loophole in the wall that gave a clear view along the road and rise over which the Germans must advance, and settled down to wait. This time he found that his early fears had gone. In their place was a fatalistic determination to defy the enemy. He smiled wearily at the prospect of dying the same day as he had discovered he had what it took to be an officer and lead his men in battle. He wished there had been more time to prove himself, and to serve his country. But that was not likely to be the outcome, something he accepted with a calm deliberation that pleasantly surprised him.

The Germans were upon them sooner than Andreas had expected. Barely ten minutes after he had addressed his men a wizened shepherd with a dark cloth wrapped round his grey hair began to drive his flock of sheep across the road and towards a narrow track leading up the cliff to their left. He was halfway across the open ground when some of his sheep shied away from the road and ran in the direction of the wall, bleating nervously. The shepherd raised his staff and ran forward, then stopped and stared for an instant. He turned and broke into a stiff run towards the cliff. A short burst of automatic fire blasted across the open ground and one of the sheep leaped into the air and fell heavily, before several bullets slammed into the shepherd’s back and he stumbled and fell face first and his charges scattered in all directions about him.

‘What did they do that for?’ Papadakis said loudly. ‘Why shoot the old man?’

‘Shhh!’ Stakiserou hissed angrily. ‘Just keep your mouth shut and be ready with the ammo.’

Andreas raised his binoculars and slowly swept the crest of the rise and then stopped breathing as he saw a helmet in the grass, then another, and a shot rang out to his left as the sailor on the flank fired. At once the shot was returned from several points and bullets cracked off the weathered stones of the wall around the sailor’s position. A moment later there was a dull thump and a faint whistling in the air just before an explosion burst amongst the trees behind the Greek position.

‘They’ve got a mortar!’ the petty officer cried out to Andreas.

‘Makes no difference,’ he called back. ‘We’re in good cover and they can’t see us. They’ll just be wasting time and ammunition if they’re counting on blasting us out.’

His words sounded hollow even as he spoke them and when he heard the whistle of the next mortar bomb, Andreas pressed himself down into the ground and felt his guts clench in terror before the explosion erupted in front of the wall, to the left of his loophole. The enemy were firing bracketing shots, he realised. One too far, the next adjustment falling short, but the third would land somewhere in between, close to where they lay. He was not the only one to realise the significance of the first two bombs.

‘Keep your head down!’ Stakiserous snapped at the young crewman who was jeering at the enemy.

Petrakis regarded him with the haughty expression of one who has recently discovered his courage and falsely concluded that it made him invincible. He bit his thumb at the Germans and spat. A burst of fire rattled against the stones away to the right and so they missed the whistle of the next shot and the explosion caught them by surprise. There was a red burst just behind the wall and a deafening blast before they were showered with earth and shattered twigs and small branches. As the falling debris swiftly subsided, the petty officer shook his head. ‘That was close.’

Petrakis lay flat beside him, refusing to move until he was given a booted prod and then he jerked into life and looked up at his comrades with a terrified expression.

‘Still alive then?’ Stakiserou grinned.

The next shot landed further along the wall, the blast blowing a small gap in the stonework. Those that followed ranged down the edge of the olive trees as the Germans tried to unsettle the nerves of their opponents while they prepared to attack. Andreas and the others readied themselves, staring hard towards the grass and rock outcrops lining the rise in front of them. There was one more explosion before the defenders heard a harsh shout. At once a party of four men jumped up and raced a short distance to the right of the German line, close to the base of the cliff, weaving as they went to put off the Greeks’ aim. Andreas swung his rifle round but before he drew a bead on the rearmost man they dropped to the ground. An instant later another party scrambled up on the other flank and repeated the manoeuvre.

‘We’ll concentrate our fire on them.’ Andreas pointed. ‘The other machine gun can cover the cliff.’

Two more parties rushed forward across the ground in front of the wall and a burst of fire from the second Hotchkiss brought down one of the enemy, doubling the soldier up before he rolled to a stop and lay writhing. Each time some of the Germans moved, their comrades provided covering fire, aiming for the area where they had spotted muzzle flashes. Their leader knew his craft and his men were well-trained and confident, Andreas realised. He kept his attention focused on their right and then he saw the movement he had been waiting for. The Germans rose and began to run forward again. Andreas tracked one and fired, an instant before Stakiserou opened up and the ground around the Germans erupted in spouts of spoil and shattered stone. Two were cut down, spinning under the impact of the bullets, while a third was struck in the leg and threw himself to the ground. The last man sprinted on a short distance, chased by a trail of bullets as the machine gun caught up with him and struck him. His arms flailed as his rifle spun through the air and then he fell.

‘Hah!’ the petty officer grinned. ‘Got ’em all!’

His celebration was cut short by a spray of bullets smashing into the stones of the wall and the branches overhead. The enemy had brought one of their own machine guns forward, Andreas realised, and were laying down suppressing fire while their comrades made a succession of short dashes towards the Greek positions. He risked a quick glance through his loophole and saw the shiver of the grass that gave away the enemy machine-gun team. He took aim with his rifle and loosed the rest of his magazine in their direction and the enemy ceased firing. Long enough for Andreas to look over the ground and assess the situation.

The Germans had approached to within fifty metres of the wall and would soon be close enough to hurl grenades, before launching their final assault. It was almost time for Andreas to order his men to retreat. First they would shoot up the enemy positions and then make a withdrawal before the Germans reacted.

‘Mortar!’ Stakiserou yelled and Andreas flattened as he heard another whistle. The round struck in front of the wall, but instead of exploding, it detonated with a soft crump and smoke swirled around the impact point and began to disperse. Andreas saw the danger at once. The enemy was laying down a smokescreen to mask their attack. Andreas rolled on to his side, wrenched his flare pistol out of the haversack and opened the breach. He rammed a cartridge in, snapped the pistol shut and aimed into the air and fired. The flare whizzed into the sky and burst in a bright white glare.

‘Let’s go!’ Andreas ordered his companions. ‘Back to the truck, now! I’ll cover you.’

He remained at his loophole as Stakiserou and Papadakis took the Hotchkiss off its tripod and fell back through the trees. Andreas saw further movement to his left as the other sailors withdrew, then he turned back to the enemy as another smoke round landed and added to the dense white veil spreading in front of the wall. He heard a voice call out to his left, not far off, and turned to fire twice in that direction, and then again to the right, and emptied the rest of the magazine to the flank. He reloaded and listened again. There were more voices and then he saw a figure approaching through the smoke. Snatching his rifle round, Andreas took aim and fired at once and was gratified by the sight of the man collapsing. He fired again in that direction and off to the left before scrambling to his feet and racing after his men, crouching low as he flitted beneath the olive trees.

There was a short pause before he heard the Germans shouting. The enemy’s machine gun rattled out again and Andreas heard the cracking and splintering of wood behind and to his right, followed by the explosions of hand grenades. He saw the road ahead of him through the trees and ran on, out into the open. The truck was to his right and the petty officer and Papadakis were climbing on to the back while the rifleman jumped into the cab and made to start the engine. Andreas raced towards them, looking for any sign of the others emerging from the trees.

‘Set up the Hotchkiss!’ he shouted.

Stakiserou nodded and bent to his work over the bed of the truck while his assistant opened the last ammunition tin and readied the belt. Andreas paused to reload his rifle, then clambered up beside them and raised his weapon. He heard an outburst of shots from the direction of the trees.

‘Get ready!’

They waited, poised to spray the olive trees at the first sign of the enemy. There were more shots and then German voices calling out to each other. The lorry’s engine coughed into life and the driver revved the engine in neutral to warm it up.

‘There!’ Papadakis pointed quickly.

The others looked and saw the figure stumbling out of the shadows beneath the trees. The late afternoon sun slanted through the canopy and trunks and dappled his sailor’s uniform with splashes of orange light. He had been shot in the shoulder and blood soaked his shirt beneath the hand he clasped to the wound. He saw the truck and was turning towards it when Andreas saw more figures rushing out of the gloom.

‘Stakiserou! They’re coming. Shoot ’em!’

The petty officer swung the machine-gun barrel and fired a burst into the trees. The Germans scattered as they dived for cover. Andreas beckoned frantically to the injured sailor and the latter ran towards them, an instant before bullets struck the road where he had been standing. The bed of the lorry lurched under Andreas’s boots and he turned and banged his fist on the driver’s cab.