Tomb of the Lost (47 page)

This time the Fieseler Storch bit deep into the desert. The front went down, the tail came up. The propellers snapped off. The Fieseler Storch cart wheeled along the desert, tearing itself to pieces before coming to a stop.

Alf had been thrown forward before landing back in his seat as everything went black.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

The tyres skidded to a stop and tiny stones skittered to either side. The Jeep
’
s driver and three passengers jumped out of their vehicle and surveyed the scene. The small aeroplane was on its roof. It was German. Its markings still clearly visible under all the dust covering it. The wreckage was scattered over a quarter of a mile.

The Jeeps driver sergeant Harry Doyle whistled through his teeth at the wreckage.

“
Sarge,
”
one of his men spoke.

Doyle looked across the desert at the other vehicles. They were part of the Long Range Desert Group. An elite group of men linked to the S.A.S.

“
What do you want us to do Sarge?
”
Albert Simmonds asked again.

“
Look for anything salvageable, anything we can use. Water, food, fuel, anything. This didn
’
t crash that long ago so there may be something. Oh and by the way
…
.
”
he said as his men had started to move off. They stopped.

“…
.The crew may still be in there. So be warned it may not be pretty.
”

“
Sarge!
”
they all chorused.

“
Just grab anything useful,
”
Harry repeated. He took his Sten gun off his shoulder and placed it on the bonnet of the jeep. He put his back to the vehicle and began to roll a cigarette.

Bert Simmonds and Alan
“
Dougie
”
Thomas surveyed the wreckage. The fourth man, George Potts, followed the trail of wreckage searching for anything of use. He kicked pieces of debris, prodding bigger bits with his toe. He reached the end of the trail and looked toward the direction the plane had obviously come. There was nothing else in the desert to indicate what had happened. The German pilot must have just crashed simple as that. George looked back at the plane. Then he eased himself out of his trousers and relieved himself. He shook himself when finished and then slowly made his way back to the wreck. Bert and Dougie picked their way over the ruined aircraft. Bert bent down to inspect a petrol can. The sand around it had recently been wet and when he picked the can up petrol trickled from a bullet hole in its side.

“
I think we may have found what brought her down,
”
he said putting his finger in the hole to show Doug.

Doug lifted up a large piece of ripped canvas revealing the planes skeleton sides. It was riddled with bullet holes. He peered through a gash. On the floor which was in fact the roof he could see spent bullets.

“
Someone shot the hell out of her.
”

Bert nodded.

“
She didn
’
t just crash then. Or run out of fuel.
”

“
Let
’
s take a look inside.
”

Bert followed Doug. They had to get down onto their knees to look in through the smashed windows.

“
They
’
re in there all right.
”

Bert got to his feet and shouted across at Harry Doyle.

“
The crew are still inside Sarge.
”

“
Any of them still alive?
”

“
No don
’
t think so. No signs of movement. Couldn
’
t see exactly how many. At least three I think.
”

Doyle puffed on his cigarette.

“
Leave them where they are. The Germans can bury them if they want to,
”
Doyle said now walking towards the wrecked plane,
“
Just quickly search it and return to the Jeep.
”

Doug pulled open the passenger door with difficulty. It was stuck at first and he had to put a foot on the bodywork and yank it. The first thing he came across was the inert form of Kleber. He had a large bruise to his forehead. Doug put two fingers inside Kleber
’
s collar and felt for a pulse.

Nothing!

Kleber was cold. Doug had to pull him roughly about to be able to see past him. He could see a pair of legs sticking out from behind the passenger seat, which had been ripped from the floor and now lay upended on the plane
’
s roof. The other body was laying face down, its legs tangled in amongst the debris. Doug turned at the door as Doyle approached.

“
Anything?
”

“
No they
’
re all dead. I don
’
t think there
’
s anything we can salvage.
”

Doyle peered in through the door.

“
Have you checked them over?
”

“
Just the first one there. They
’
re definitely dead Sarge.
”

“
Anything else to report?
”

“
No Sarge.
”

“
Sure?
”

“
Like what Sarge?
”

“
Like why two of them are wearing British uniforms.
”

“
Are they Sarge?
”
Doug pushed past Doyle to look back inside the wreckage. They both looked up as they heard another vehicle approaching.

“
It
’
s the Major,
”
Doug said.

“
What! Oh shit! Let me do all the talking, okay.
”

The Jeep pulled up with a squealing of brakes. Major John Rushton jumped out and rushed up to Doug and Harry.

“
You
’
re taking your time Sargeant. You were supposed to just search the wreckage.
”

Doyle saluted.

“
Yes sir. But we
’
ve found something.
”

“
What,
”
Rushton asked smoothing his fingers over his black bushy moustache.

“
Well sir it looks like there may have been two spies on board.
”

Both of Rushtons eyebrows went up.
”

“
Spies! What makes you think that?
”

“
Two of the men in there are wearing British uniforms.
”

Rushton looked inside the door.

“
Well better get them out of there Sargeant. Look for clues. Documents, maps, anything.
”

“
Yes sir,
”
Doyle turned to Doug
“
Drag them out of the wreckage. Come on. Go! Go!
”
he yelled clapping his hands at his men.

Bert and Doug grabbed one of Kleber
’
s legs each and pulled him from the plane. They laid him on the desert floor. All could see that he was dead. His eyes stared up at them, lifeless.

When they grabbed hold of Alf a groan escaped his lips.

“
Did you hear that?
”
Bert asked
“’
Ere this one
’
s still alive.
”

“
Get him out quickly,
”
Rushton ordered.

They lay Alf next to Kleber.

“
Check his injuries.
”

Alf lay on his back, his head was pounding. His eyes were rolling from side to side. He tried to focus them as faces appeared above him. They were talking foreign, it sounded foreign, no wait! It could be English but their words were slow and distorted.

“
Give him some water.
”

Doyle did as the Major ordered. He took his own water bottle and held it to Alf
’
s lips. The water trickled into Alf
’
s mouth. At first he swallowed the flow, then as he couldn
’
t keep up he gagged on it, coughing it back up. Doyle reached into Alf
’
s shirt and pulled the dog tags out to inspect.

“
Alfred Dennis Royal Engineers,
”
Doyle looked up at Rushton.

“
This one
’
s alive also,
”
Bert and Doug pulled Johnny Larder out. Though unconscious his chest heaved up and down. Rushton picked up the telephone receiver in his Jeep.

“
Get a medical orderly over here now.
”

He watched the other vehicles far away and he saw Corporal Luke Downing jump into action, get behind the wheel and swing the Jeep around and head towards him. It only took Downing a few minutes to reach them. He pulled up, jumped out of the drivers seat, walked round to the passenger side and took his medical kit from the passenger seat. He saluted Rushton smartly.

“
Never mind all that,
”
Rushton spoke
“
These two men here urgently need your attention. Begin with the unconscious one. We
’
ll keep a watch on this one. The other one is dead.
”

Downing got down onto his knees next to Larder. He put his fingers on Johnny
’
s wrist and counted his pulse. He then placed his ear on Johnny
’
s chest and listened to his breathing. He opened Johnny
’
s shirt and felt all around the chest and abdomen. He opened the eyes and looked into them. Then he checked over the fresh scarring on Larder
’
s face and neck.

“
Private John Larder Royal Engineers,
”
Doyle said taking Johnny
’
s dog tags from around his neck.

Rushton looked from the two Englishmen, to the German, to the plane.

“
What the hell
’
s going on Sir?
”
Doyle asked his Major.

“
I don
’
t know. But I intend to find out. How are you doing Corporal?
”

Downing had moved on to Alf.

“
That one seems well. I think he has a concussion. I won
’
t know until he comes round Sir. We
’
ll have to keep him like that,
”
Downing turned back to Alf
“
Now then chum let
’
s have a look at you.
”

Alf looked at the man staring down at him. He couldn
’
t understand the words being said so he focused on the mouth. He tried to lip read but most of what was being said to him was lost. His head was killing him and he reached up with a shaky hand to touch it. He regretted it instantly. Pain shot down one side of his neck. Gently Alf let his arm fall back down. There was now a terrific ringing in his ears. He once again focused on the mouth in front of him. He still couldn
’
t understand the words. Downing smiled at him and Alf tried a weak smile back. He now knew he was in the company of friends. Downing continued his examination. He opened Alf
’
s shirt and whistled.

“
Sir this man has been shot recently,
”
Downing showed them the healed bullet wound.

To Downing
’
s concern Alf
’
s eyes closed. He quickly checked the breathing and pulse.

“
Is he dead?
”
Rushton asked.

“
No just sleeping. He
’
s had a big knock to the head. It will make him want to sleep.
”

“
Can we move him?
”

“
Yes I don
’
t see why not. I don
’
t think his injuries are life threatening. Looking at this wound I
’
d say we
’
ve got a fighter here.
”

“
Thank you Corporal. Just keep him alive long enough for me to talk to him.
”

“
Sir the other one
’
s coming round.
”