The Black Baroness (21 page)

It was now a fortnight since the affray on the mountain road in which Gussy had been wounded, and as his injury had received expert medical attention within a few hours it was healing well, it would be several weeks yet before he could use his arm again but he had recovered from the loss of blood and was able to get up for an hour or two every day. Gregory played chess with him and they spent many interesting sessions discussing
the war and the international situation, as although Gussy appeared at first sight to be a fool he was actually an extremely knowledgeable man. Both of them were of the opinion that as the Allies held the seas they could put more troops into Norway by water than Germany could possibly send by air; so that although the Germans had the enormous advantage that they had been given so long to consolidate their positions in the south the Allies would easily be able to establish a front in Central Norway which would contain them there and gradually wear them down.

It was on the evening of Thursday the 25th that they heard the sounds of cheering and Gregory went out at once to see what was happening. He found that the excitement was caused by a company of the Leicester Regiment which was marching into the town. They looked fit and well and were evidently the advance guard of the British Army, so they were receiving a great ovation from the Norwegian inhabitants. As he stood watching them with a pleased smile on his face he felt a touch on his elbow and turned to see that von Ziegler was standing beside him.

He had seen the German from time to time during the last fortnight, and for the past few days von Ziegler had been hobbling about on crutches, but while they had maintained their armistice, by an unspoken mutual consent, they had refrained from any form of fraternisation.

‘Well, what d’you think of them?’ asked the airman.

‘They look pretty good to me,’ said Gregory guardedly.

The German grinned. ‘Yes—the men look all right. But I was thinking of their equipment. I see that your officers still carry those clumsy old-fashioned revolvers of the same pattern that they used in the Boer War; while the men are armed only with rifles and have the air of being about to take part in an act at the Aldershot Tattoo.’

‘True,’ Gregory agreed. ‘But there are their Bren-gun carriers coming along behind them and I imagine that they’re marching in column of threes like this only to make a semi-formal entrance to the town.’

‘Oh, quite. But they have no motor-cyclist scouts, no armoured cars, no tanks, no flame-throwers, no anti-aircraft guns, not a tommy-gun between them and no aerial protection; so how do they propose to operate against a German armoured column when it puts in an appearance?’

The question was an awkward one but Gregory replied quietly: ‘I don’t doubt they’ll make out all right. This is only the advance guard and you can be quite certain that they have plenty of tanks in support on their way down the valley.’

‘You think so?’ von Ziegler drew slowly on his cigarette. ‘Of course, even poorly-armed flying columns like this could have done an immense amount for you if you had had them here a fortnight ago, but now that we have a fully-mechanised army established in the south, is it wise to send infantry against it? I should have thought that the tanks would have provided the advance guard.’

‘They probably will when contact is established with the enemy.’

Von Ziegler grinned again. ‘Now, look here, Sallust, you saved my life and I want to repay that. I’m going to tell you something and you can take my word for it that my information is correct. As you know, I have any number of reliable agents in this country and I have naturally been keeping myself well-informed as to what is going on.

‘Our Air Force has been playing the very devil with your bases at Namsos and Andalsnes, so you’re having very great difficulty in getting your heavy equipment ashore. Your trouble is that, for some reason best known to yourselves, you allowed us to seize every air-base in Norway; so while we can operate from close at hand your people are having to rely almost entirely upon their Fleet Air Arm, and that was not intended to support large-scale military operations.

‘You may have some tanks up the valley, but there can’t be very many of them, so these poor devils are in for a thin time. We have an armoured column advancing north by this road, and it’s only a few miles away, so before dawn at the latest we shall take Lillehammer and any of your men that are left will be driven back up the valley. I say “any of them that are left” because our aircraft will be letting go twenty tons of bombs on this place in about half an hour, and that’s really what I came out to tell you. If you want to save your necks, you and that flowing moustached friend of yours had better get out of here while the going’s good.’

‘Thanks,’ said Gregory quickly. ‘That’s very decent of you. As you made no stipulation that I should keep this to myself I take it that you don’t intend trying to prevent my passing it on?’

Von Ziegler shrugged. ‘I could hardly expect you to do otherwise, and I have no objection at all, since I feel sure that I can rely on you not to have me arrested as the source of your information.

‘You see, the fact of your warning the officer in command of these troops will not materially affect the military situation. In addition to the armoured column which is now approaching Lillehammer, a second armoured column captured Elverum last night, so King Haakon and his Government are on the run again, and the way is now open to us up the Osterdal Valley. In consequence, this British force is already outflanked, and hour by hour its situation will become more precarious as our Eastern column moves north. Still, that needn’t worry you as it will be destroyed or driven back by our Western column which is moving direct on Lillehammer. With these two armoured divisions advancing up the parallel valleys we’ll have you out of Stoeren and Dombaas inside a week, so nothing you can do now will prevent us relieving Trondheim.’

Gregory gave a wry grin. ‘We’ll see about that, but for the moment you’ve certainly got the whip-hand of us and I must get busy. Anyhow, I’m very grateful and, personally, I wish you the best of luck.’

‘The same to you,’ called von Ziegler as Gregory hurried away into the hospital.

Gussy was sitting up in bed reading a ten-days-old copy of
The Times
which had somehow found its way into Sweden and then across the border. In a few swift words Gregory told him what was happening, asked him to warn the doctor so that the hospital could be evacuated and said that immediately he had done so he had better get the nurse to help him dress. He then dashed out again and ran down the street to the central square of the town where the British troops had now formed up.

A freckled-faced young Captain in a fur jerkin was standing
in front of the men with several other officers, a Norwegian interpreter and the Mayor of Lillehammer, with whom they were arranging the matter of temporary billets for the troops. Without wasting a second Gregory barged in amongst them and addressed the Captain.

‘My name is Sallust. That won’t convey anything to you, but I’m an Englishman and I’ve been in Norway since the latter part of March, on special duties. I’ve just received reliable information that a German armoured column is approaching the town and that the German Air Force is going to bomb it in about twenty minutes; so you’d better withdraw your men and tell the Norwegians to get into their air-raid shelters.’

‘Thank you,’ said the Captain. ‘Mine is Renetter. Would you be kind enough to put your hands above your head?’ He turned quickly to a sergeant. ‘Search this man for arms and examine his papers.’

Gregory shrugged, but he did not put up his hands and he waved away the sergeant as he said: ‘I suppose you think I’m a Fifth Columnist?’

‘That’s it,’ the Captain nodded. ‘Ever since we set foot in Norway we’ve been meeting gentlemen of your kidney who’ve been spreading false rumours and telling us to evacuate positions when there was no need to do so; we’ve developed special techniques for dealing with people like you.’

‘Well, in this case you’re wrong,’ Gregory smiled, producing his passport. ‘Run your eye over that, and if you think it’s a fake you’d better come up with me to the hospital. Langdon-Forbes, who was attached to the British Legation in Oslo, is there and he will vouch for my identity.’

‘I see.’ Captain Renetter looked a little undecided. He had been trained for good honest fighting and he detested the uncertainties which were now thrust upon him by the Nazis’ new methods of warfare.

‘Come on!’ snapped Gregory. ‘I’m not going to stand here to be bombed—if you are. For God’s sake order your men under cover. That’s the least you can do if you won’t take my word for it that they’d be much better out of the town altogether; and come up and see Langdon-Forbes.’

Puffing at a pipe that he had just lit Renetter refused to be hurried, but after a moment’s thought it seemed to him that, anyhow, there could be no harm in getting his men into some of the nearby buildings, so he gave the necessary orders while
the interpreter passed on to the Mayor the information about the anticipated air-raid. He then nodded to Gregory.

‘Right-on; you’d better lead the way, and I warn you I’ll shoot you if you attempt to play me any monkey tricks.’

In this somewhat undignified manner Gregory proceeded at a swift pace up the hill, the Captain following with a quick but apparently leisurely stride. At the hospital they found everything in a bustle. The nurses and male-attendants were already shepherding the less serious cases down into the air-raid shelters which had been prepared during the past fortnight, while outside the building were three ambulances, to which others of the staff were carrying out the bedridden on stretchers.

They found Gussy dressed and a nurse was just completing the adjustment of a sling to carry his arm. The lean-faced Gregory was of such a type that he might well have been taken for a dark-haired Briton, a southern German or even a Frenchman, but about Gussy there was no question at all. His beautifully-cut suit of Glenurquhart tweed positively screamed Savile Row and no one but a British diplomat could possibly have sported that long, drooping moustache in the year of grace 1940 and got away with it. Captain Renetter had hardly to exchange two sentences with him before he was confident of his
bona fides
; which automatically established Gregory’s as well.

‘Where did you get this information?’ he asked.

‘Sorry, I can’t tell you,’ Gregory replied promptly, ‘but I’ll take my oath it’s authentic. There’s one German armoured column advancing up the Osterdal Valley and another which will be rattling through here within a few hours. You can’t possibly resist tanks, flame-throwers and ground-strafing aircraft with infantry, so the sooner you pack up and get out the better.’

‘I’m afraid I can’t do that. My orders are to advance south until I contact the enemy and then to go into action.’

‘But good
God,
man! There’s no sense in doing that when you’ve already been told that you’ll be up against immensely superior forces! Your men will only be massacred. You’d much better get back up the valley. Blow up a bridge if you can find one, to halt their tanks, then hang on there until reinforcements reach you.’

Renetter shook his head. ‘I wouldn’t care to retreat until I’ve at least put up some sort of a show.’

‘All right, then,’ shrugged Gregory angrily, ‘hang on if you
insist, and ambush the tanks from houses on either side of the main street; but if you do that, it’s a hundred to one that you’ll be cut off and surrounded here, which is a senseless way to try to serve your country.’

‘Thanks! but I think that I’m the best judge of that,’ replied the Captain a little stiffly. ‘After all, I’m a soldier.’

‘True.’ Gregory’s eye glinted. ‘I’m sure that you’ll put up a jolly good show and die very gallantly. But the trouble is, my young friend, that you do not yet understand what you’re up against. I, on the other hand have spent several months in Germany since the war, so I know very much more about the German Army than you do. Incidentally, I also happen to have won my Military Cross when you were still in your perambulator. However, probably you’re a braver man than I am. I mean to get out before this place gets too hot to hold me.’

‘I’m sorry,’ Renetter apologised, handsomely if a little awkwardly. ‘I didn’t mean to be rude or anything but it seemed as if you were suggesting that I should run away from the Germans.’

‘That’s quite all right,’ Gregory assured him with a smile; ‘it’s your show and you must use your own judgment, but knowing the facts I’d see to it anyhow that you leave yourself a good line of retreat open, because I’m afraid you’ll need it. Best of luck to you. Come on, Gussy.’

Together they walked out into the pale, spring sunshine. The Captain flicked his battle bowler with a smile and went off down the hill to his men while Gregory and Gussy joined the small crowd that was gathered about the three ambulances. They were now loaded up with four stretcher-cases and a nurse apiece, but the driver of the rear car was missing, as he had run off a few minutes before to collect some valuables from his house. The doctor was anxious to get the convoy started and said that they would not wait for the man if they could find another driver. Gregory at once volunteered and got into the driving-seat with Gussy on the box beside him. The doctor jumped on the leading car and the little cavalcade set off.

The leading ambulances, moving at an easy pace on account of the injured people who formed their cargo, ran down the hill towards the main square, but Gregory did not follow. Jamming his foot down on the accelerator he tore along the side-road in which the hospital was situated and, clanging his bell to clear the way ahead, turned down a number of other side-streets
towards the northern entrance to the town.

‘Hi!’ exclaimed Gussy. ‘Steady on! Think of your poor passengers.’

‘I am,’ said Gregory grimly, swerving to avoid a farm-cart. If we had stayed in a column we’d have made a tempting target for a Nazi bomb once we got out on to the open road, and we need every ounce of speed this bus will give us if we’re to get well clear of the others before the trouble starts. It’s better for the people behind us to have a bit of a shaking-up than to be blown to bits.’