Tramp in Armour (24 page)

'I should damned well hope so. What about German aircraft
- are there a lot about during the daytime?'

'Yes, there are, but they fly very high. If there were many of
you I think they might see you, but not just one tank if you are
careful. There are many miles where you do not see any
Germans except for the occasional supply column. And
they will not be expecting you in this area,' he pointed out
shrewdly.

'Thanks, Jacques. There may be some more, questions I'll think of to ask you - you'll be staying here for the night, I suppose?'

'No,' interjected Mandel quickly, 'he will be staying with my brother at Fontenoy, but there is plenty of time to ask him as many questions as you wish.'

It wasn't a matter of more questions to be asked, but now he
knew that Jacques wasn't going to spend the night at the farm,
Barnes' mind was filled with foreboding, driving away in a
flash the soothing effect of the food and the wine, forcing his tired brain to weigh and calculate just when he had hoped that
for a few brief hours at least he would be able to relax, to
recuperate from the terrible strain of the events of the past two
days. The lad was probably loyal: Mandel seemed confident
enough and the Frenchman was no fool. But was it only a
question of loyalty? Supposing he went out again tonight with
his friends on one of those wild escapades, that he was cap
tured and interrogated, possibly even by the SS? Since there
was nothing he could do about it he smiled amiably.

'That's all right. I've asked all the questions I can think of
for the moment.'

Mandel offered them two bedrooms but Barnes firmly re
fused, saying they would sleep outside by the haystack in case
the Germans arrived unexpectedly, and he suspected that
Mandel was secretly relieved at his refusal. Before they left
the house the farmer said that they must listen to the news
bulletin and Barnes was interested to see that he automatically tuned in to London as though he regarded that source as being
the most reliable at the moment. They listened in silence as
the calm detached voice of Stuart Hibberd began speaking.-

'... fighting in Boulogne.'

It was after eleven o'clock when they opened their bed-rolls
which they had carried back from the tank after parking it,
and they laid them out behind the haystack. As they arranged the blankets the moon was coming up and Barnes welcomed
this pale illumination since it would make their watch on the
road easier; he was by no means convinced that the Germans
would announce their arrival with warning headlights. Firmly,
he gave Penn his instructions.

'You-get to bed and stay there - you'll have little enough
sleep as it is.'

'When do I go on duty?'

'You don't - I'm sharing it with Reynolds.'

'And may I ask at what hour reveille will be blowing?'

'At dawn - four o'clock on the dot.'

'That's five hours away, which means you'd get two and a half hours' sleep each. It's not good enough. I'm afraid you're in for a touch of insubordination - I'm doing my whack.'

'And you're due for a whack on the head if you don't shut
up. Get down and stay down - that's an order, Penn. If I need
you, I'll wake you.'

He only had to wait a few minutes before Penn was fast asleep, dead to the world, lying on his left side to take the
weight off his wound. He gave Reynolds his orders.

'You go .down as well. I'll do two and a half hours and then
wake you at one-thirty. After I've gone down you're to wake
me at four - we must be away very early tomorrow. While
you're on guard it's just a matter of keeping a sharp eye along
the road in both directions. Down you go.'

A few minutes later and with some trepidation he watched Jacques drive away towards Beaucaire in his four-seater green Renault, still unable to rid himself of the feeling that this was the fly in the ointment. Physically, he was having an awful time keeping on his feet and he walked up and down the moonlit road to take his mind off his gently throbbing wound, realizing now that it would have probably been wiser to change the dressing, but his brain went on racing round. They'd have to head north for the Boulogne-Calais area, not so far from where Jacques came from. It would mean the devil of a right-hand sweep, west and then north, and he doubted whether they'd ever make it, but at least on the way they might meet some really worthwhile objective. The search for some massive objective against which they could deal the Germans a hammer-blow was now looming larger in Barnes' mind than finding a way back to the Allied lines. The position was becoming terribly serious, the news bulletin proved that. It was a warm muggy night and this-didn't help to keep him on the alert. He'd be glad when morning came, and then they could get on with it. As he paced up and down Barnes had a strong feeling that this was the last haven of peace they would find, that from tomorrow they would be in the thick of it all the way.

Shortly after midnight the lights in the farmhouse went out
and he heard a window open and then close. It was probably
Mandel listening to him pacing up and down. In the distance he could still hear the mutter of those guns, but just before it was time to wake Reynolds the guns stopped, and this dis
turbed Barnes greatly as though it were an omen of disaster.
He woke up Reynolds and settled down to sleep under the stars, which seemed far bigger than usual. An hour later he
was still awake, his mind twitching with anxiety, then without
knowing it he fell asleep. The emergency he had feared came
just after dawn.

SIX

Saturday, May 25th

The tank emerged from the outhouse into the eerie light of the
false dawn. It seemed to kick up the devil of a row as it moved
slowly down the stony track, following the beams of the head
lights which made the pale grey gloom even weirder. Across the fields coils of mist floated above the ground and a curtain
of vapour fogged the beams.,

They had risen at four like ghosts in a half-world, bleary-
eyed, thick-tongued, thirsty, hardly able to carry their bed
rolls along the stony track, but they had the world to them
selves, a world which was dark and chilly. They had brewed-
up, drunk their tea and, at Barnes' insistence, had a shave.
After the tea and the shave they had begun to revive suffici
ently to eat some of the remaining bully beef and a packet of
biscuits which Reynolds had quietly kept for an emergency. There was general agreement that the morning qualified. The
horizon was a faint line against a bleak glow when they drove
out of the building and along the track. Barnes already realized that Penn had not benefited from his night's rest to any
thing like the extent he had hoped and the corporal's peevishness had confirmed this.

'What about the Mandels?' he had asked. 'Are you running off and leaving them without a word of thanks?'

'Of course not. We'll park Bert by the road and then I'll
pop back to see them.'

As they moved down the track he saw that lights had appeared in the upper windows of the farmhouse. Mandel must have heard them coming. It seemed ungrateful not to warn him the night before of their plans for a very early start but Jacques had been there until they had left the farmhouse. Rubbing his arm to get the chill out of his bones Barnes looked
both ways along the road and saw nothing. It would be an enormous relief when they had left the Mandels in peace. Within ten minutes they would be on their way towards Abbeville. He had chosen that route because it was the only one they had heard to be clear of traffic. They were very close to the farmhouse when he stiffened, swore, and gave the order.

'Halt! Lights off!'

From the direction of Beaucaire tiny headlights glowed in
the distance, just one pair. They'd have to let the vehicle go
past without seeing them. He issued more orders and the tank
moved across the field until it was completely hidden by the
dim bulk of the haystack, when he ordered a halt. Standing in
the turret behind the stack he saw that the top was at least six
feet above his head and when he leant far out from the rim his
fingers touched the edges of projecting hay. Jumping down, he
checked the front and rear: there was at least four feet of
stack which concealed the tank from the road at either end. It was just a question of letting this early bird drive past before
he went to see Mandel. He might even be able to buy some
food off the farmer.

Going down on one knee behind the rear track he waited,
feeling the early morning dew soak through his trousers, grip
ping the revolver in his right hand. His brain was becoming
very alert now as he watched the headlights growing larger, a
sense of alarm beginning to sting his nerves: this could be
trouble, but at least there was only one car. Pull yourself to
gether, Barnes - one car could contain four Germans armed
with machine-pistols. Climbing up on the hull he told Penn to
hand him up a machine-pistol, then he assumed his position
behind the track. The car was very close now, moving at a
tremendous speed, probably well over sixty. Tension built up
inside him like the crackle of electricity. Thank God he had
got them up early. With a scream of brakes the car turned off
the road, headlights sweeping over the rear of the tank, then it stopped.

Had they seen the tank? The headlights had continued in
their ninety-degree turn without a quiver, but a strong-willed
driver might manage that. The slam of the car door. Foot
steps. A solitary figure reached the front door and hammered on it like a German.drill-sergeant demanding entry. Barnes
lifted the gun as the front door opened, shedding a pool of light into the yard and then closing again. Could it be Jac
ques? The parked car looked like a Renault although in this
weird light it was difficult to tell. He wasn't at all sure that
there weren't other people inside the darkened car. He'd better check this.

He ran, racing forward until he reached the side of the
house out of sight of the car, creeping along the wall to a
window which showed light behind curtains. He couldn't see
through the material but faintly he heard voices, one of them
excited. This voice was doing most of the talking. Cautiously
he crept towards the front of the house and as he reached the corner he heard the front, door open. Footsteps came into the yard. He froze.

'Sergeant Barnes, it's only Jacques. He's brought some
news, some alarming news. Barnes!'

'Here, Mandel.'

He stepped out into the courtyard, lowering his machine-pistol, and when Mandel saw it he must have recognized the
gun since he looked at it in surprise but without comment.
Beside him stood Jacques, his chin unshaven and his collar
open, while Etienne waited in the floodlit doorway. Mandel hurried forward, his shirt only half-tucked inside his trousers,
speaking quickly.

'There is great trouble. From his bedroom in Fontenoy
Jacques can see across the fields to Beaucaire - or rather to the
road here from Beaucaire - and he heard something early this morning. Then he saw a lot of lights so he walked, across the fields and hid behind a hedge close to these lights. A large German column has reached Beaucaire, has come round it to
the south, you understand, and camped on this side of the
town...'

'Camped?'

'No, that is the wrong word. Apparently it has halted for a
short time. When they move again they must come this way -
past here.'