HMS Diamond (15 page)

      
"Probably not."

      
"What about you, Inge?"

      
"I would have nothing to do with the schweine; but I could see where many people would. The flyer has a point. This
is
an important seaport, they
do
need to get this place cleaned up and running again, and those people have the skills to do that. Maybe it’s a genuine offer, I don’t know; but I don’t think I would go down there tomorrow to find out.

      
"What I am more worried about is what this means for us getting out of here."

      
Walker was impressed. There was nothing vacuous at all in her answer. She cleanly analyzed the situation and went directly to the next step—what does it mean for
us
. His opinion of her went up a notch.

      
"I don’t know, but it’s a cinch we aren’t getting out of here tonight. They’ve already set up a detachment of soldiers on the field.

***

      
After an uncomfortably chilly night, the dawn mist morphed itself into a lingering light gray haze. Overhead the sky was a gentle powder blue dotted with a handful of puffy white clouds. It was the perfect morning for a relaxing walk along a seashore or through a garden—unfortunately the three could do neither.

      
About 9 o’clock a detachment of soldiers arrived to erect some temporary fencing around a large portion of the drill field. At 10:30 a battery of artillerymen rolled up to unlimber and load six 12-pound cannon. The cannon were located outside the fence and pointed toward the bay; and that confused Walker. If an enemy showed up in the bay, the cannon could easily reach them; but the Champ de Mars was hardly the best place to locate the batteries. And why load them? Were they expecting the English to return? He finally decided that they were just a unit that was being exercised or perhaps punished for some transgression.

      
By 11 o’clock tables were being set up in the fenced area and by 11:30 a battalion of Sans-Culottes arrived and formed up in a line behind the tables, presumably to keep order. No order keeping was necessary, however, at least not at first.

      
The citizens of Toulon started showing up just before noon. As they arrived they were directed to one of the tables where clerks were apparently taking information. After that they were directed to wait in a group in the center of the fenced off area. What surprised Walker was the number of spectators that arrived as well. Many of them, he surmised, were there because of the possibility of obtaining work. He could imagine the number of jobs that had been displaced by the sacking of the town. But, the others? He could only imagine they were there simply to be seen as supportive of their new masters. The number of revolutionary cockades he could see affixed to caps and stuck to blouses underscored this deduction.

      
The three had broken out the wine, bread and cheese and were consuming a quick noontime meal while waiting to see what would happen next.

      
A little after one o’clock the registration process was complete and some 200 workers were milling around the center of the field. A group of three drummers began a steady roll. An officer stepped forth and the drum roll stopped. He spoke in a loud voice that could easily be heard all over the square.

      
"Traitors of Toulon. Each of you, by your own confession, has admitted to collaborating with the English oppressors who, until recently, occupied this town. Your names and your deeds have been duly recorded." He waived back toward the tables and the clerks.

      
"As a representative of the Toulon Revolutionary Tribunal I, Colonel Bonaparte, hereby decree that each of you is sentenced to death for your activities." And, with that, he turned and walked away.

      
The crowd standing in the field looked stunned and turned to each other as if to confirm what they had just heard. As the announcement was sinking in, the battalion of Sans-Culottes un-slung their arms and every other man took one pace forward and dropped to one knee. At a command, the kneeling men fired into the crowd of workers and started reloading. At another command, the standing men fired and reloaded. Then the kneeling men fired followed, again, by the standing.

      
It all happened so fast that Walker, Susan and Inge could not truly credit what they were so clearly seeing. Even the crowd of spectators had no immediate reaction. It wasn’t until the first whiff of gun smoke drifted over them that reality set in and the screams of horror began. What they didn’t know was that the horror was not yet over.

      
Units of revolutionary soldiers now began emerging double-time from the side streets around the square. Their job was to pin the spectators before they could leave and force them too into the fenced area. With the prodding of unsheathed bayonets and the slamming of rifle butts this was soon accomplished.

      
The battalion of Sans-Culottes had withdrawn, their task over, and Walker was about to ask out loud what was going to happen now. The words did not have time to form on his lips when he noticed the artillery pieces outside the fence had been swung around and were now pointed at the crowd of defenseless civilians.

      
Walker could not hear the order being given, but given it was. Simultaneously the six guns erupted with a horrendous sound that could be physically felt all the way up in the bell tower. Six tongues of flame shot out, and thousands of one-inch lead grapeshot balls sprayed into the crowd. Hundreds fell screaming to the ground. The ones that had somehow avoided being hit fell with them, willing themselves to sink into the ground for protection.

      
After a minute, the smoke cleared and Colonel Bonaparte re-appeared.

      
"Citizens! Citizens! The vengeance of the French Republic is now satisfied. Rise and go to your homes."

      
By ones and twos they tentatively stood up. Some were walking under their own power seemingly unhurt. Some were helping others who had been wounded. Others were wounded and, without any help, were doing their best to stagger or crawl off of the killing field.

      
When a sufficient number had finally stood up, the cannons fired again.

***

      
The rest of the afternoon was dismal. Susan spent the time at her window looking out over the city with a thousand-yard stare. Inge, recoiling at the horror of what she had just seen, went off into a corner and began retching. After that, she just lay with her eyes closed, coiled in a little ball on the floor. Walker doubted if she was sleeping.

      
Walker spent the afternoon with his mind racing. "What kind of person would it take to
do
something like that?" He kept thinking. "What kind of people
are
these?" Sure, he had been in combat. He had seen seaman shot, blown apart, even burned to death. But those were
military
, for God’s sake! This was too much. By any standard, in any time, at any place, it was
an atrocity.

      
By 5:00 the winter sun had disappeared behind the mountains surrounding Toulon and darkness fell quickly, quietly and mercifully. Walker could see people emerging from their houses to start searching for loved ones that still lay on the Champ de Mars. As long as they did not appear to be looting, the small contingent of soldiers that were left behind did nothing to stop them.

      
Walker knew this was not the time for any hesitation or uncertainty in his voice or manner.

      
"Susan, Inge, we are leaving now. Leave everything here except the bag with the two lanterns in it. Inge you will carry that. And Susan, put the water jug in that other sack; you carry it. I’ll carry the pistol and the powder. We are going to leave the church one at a time at intervals through the side door. That will put you into a small alley that will take you to the square. Merge with the people who are going to look for loved ones."

      
Lucas saw the look of horror on Inge’s face. "I am sorry, Inge, but it has to be done.

      
"We will each independently go on to the field and pretend we are looking for someone. Over time, I want you to gravitate toward the west end of the field. We will meet and go from there. Any questions?"

      
There were no questions and Walker had guessed right. Giving a specific, decisive, plan of action was exactly what was needed to spur the two back to life.

      
After about 20 minutes of walking through the torn bodies and blood soaked ground of the killing field the three met up at the west end. In the limited moonlight it was hard, if not impossible, to see the French guards; which meant it was hard, if not impossible, for them to see the three. Walker pushed over a portion of the flimsy waist-high fence with his foot. "This way," he ordered.

      
They emerged onto the Avenue le Carnot which Walker knew headed straight north to the Port de France, one of the gates in the wall surrounding the city. After a slow and cautious journey, they arrived at the end of the street; and, peering around a corner, they could see two soldiers guarding the gate. One was standing next to it looking bored out of his mind, and the other was inside the guardhouse with a bottle of wine tucked under his arm, already asleep.

      
"We’ve got to get that guard away from that gate." Walker said. "But I’ll be damned if I know how."

      
No one spoke for several minutes as they eyed the scene.

      
"I do," said Inge.

      
"You do... what?"

      
"I know how to dispose of that guard." And she outlined her plan.

      
A few minutes later Inge had circled around the block and was casually walking down the pathway that followed the perimeter of the wall. As she neared the guard, she said something to him that Walker could not hear, and kept walking. The guard smiled and eyed her appreciatively. She crossed over the path to go down the Avenue de Carnot and soon walked around the corner of the building where Walker and Whitney were waiting. Inge stood there, slowly counting to 30. Walker could see her face was pale and her hands were shaking. Suddenly, she bolted back around the corner of the building and started shouting at the guard in her best German.

      
"Schutz! Komm her, schnell. Guck das an. Oh, das ist schrecklich!!" [Guard! Come here, quickly! Look at that. Oh, this is terrible!!]

      
The guard had no clue as to what she was saying. He knew she was speaking German and he knew she was terribly excited about something. He automatically came over to investigate. As he rounded the corner, Walker brought the butt of the pistol down on his head.

      
"Let’s go," he whispered. "But be quiet. I don’t want to wake up that other guard." In less than a minute they were through the gate and had disappeared into the darkness beyond.

***

      
Cape Cepet was about 10 miles away and the first half of it was easy traveling. About halfway between Toulon and the cape was the little town of La Seyne, and the road from Toulon to there was broad and well maintained. Beyond La Seyne, however, things became more difficult.

      
The main road disappeared and all that was left were cart paths, if that, leading to a small land bridge called the Isthmus les Sablettes. This land bridge was the only point connecting Cape Cepet to the mainland. Worse, dotted along the coast were numerous French batteries, and they all knew that stretch would be heavily patrolled. Just past La Seyne they stopped for a break in a small grove of trees.

      
Susan took a swig from the water jug and passed it to Inge. "Why’d you do it, Inge?" Walker asked.

      
"Why’d I do what?

      
"Back in Toulon. That little deception to get the guard away from his post. You didn’t have to. I am sure we would have thought of something else."

      
"No, you’re wrong. I had to." She passed the jug to Lucas.

      
"I am not sure you understand what I am asking." Walker said as he took a pull. "What you did back there was very, very, dangerous. That second guard could have awakened from his dinnertime nap and the two of them could have decided you were dessert. I couldn’t have stopped them, and I think you knew that."

      
"And I am telling you. I had to." Inge paused for a few seconds and went on.

      
"Why is it you men assume that characteristics like courage can only be passed down on the male side of the family? I am of the House of Hanover, Dr. Walker. We are a branch of the House of Welf, which is a branch of the House of Este. My ancestors have ruled central and northern Germany since the 9th Century. Do you think that was accomplished by a succession of milksops?

      
"My honor and my family’s honor required that I act, and what I did was what was needed to get us past that guard. That’s all."