CHAPTER TWELVE
_In the Nick of Time_
Huddled together like sardines under the car, the Belgian Sergeant andthe two boys pressed fingers to their ears while all about them a wholeworld went mad with shot and shell. Never in all his life had Dave heardsuch a bellowing roar of crashing sound. For the first few seconds hisentire body had been paralyzed with fear, but when he didn't die at oncehis brain grew kind of numb, and the roaring thunder didn't seem to haveso much effect upon him. It wasn't because of a greater courage comingto his rescue. And it wasn't a lack of fear, either. It was simply thatin the midst of a furious bombardment the minds of human beings are toostunned by the sound to register any kind of emotion.
And so the three of them just lay there under the car while the Germangunners far back expended their wrath in the form of screaming steel,and mountains of flame and rolling thunder. In ten minutes it was allover. The range of the guns was changed and the barrage moved onward tosome other objective. Yet neither of the three moved a muscle. It was asthough each was waiting for the other to make the first move.
Eventually Dave could stand the suspense no longer. He jerked up hishead without thinking and cracked it hard on the underside of the car.He let out a yelp of pain, and the sound of his voice seemed to releasewhatever was holding Freddy Farmer and the Belgian Sergeant. All threeof them crawled out from under the car and got to their feet and lookedaround. Dave and Freddy gasped aloud. The Belgian Sergeant shruggedindifferently and muttered through his teeth. There just wasn't any roadany more. It was completely lost in a vast area of smoking shell holesthat seemed to stretch out in all directions as far as the eye couldsee. Blackened jagged stumps marked what had once been trees. Fieldswhere spring grass had been growing up were now brown acres of piled updirt and stones. And a spot where Dave had last seen a farm house was asbare as the palm of his hand.
"By the Saints, you two are a lucky charm!" the Sergeant suddenlyexploded and bobbed his big head up and down vigorously. "If you couldstay by my side always I would come out of this war alive without anytrouble at all. By the Saints of Notre Dame, yes! Look at the car. Ithas not even been scratched! It is a miracle, nothing else!"
It was true! The small scouting car was bathed in dust and dirt butthere wasn't so much as a scratch on it. The engine was even idling assmooth as could be. The Belgian Sergeant stared at it almost as thoughhe were staring at a ghost. Then shaking his head and muttering throughhis big buck teeth, he climbed in behind the wheel.
"Nothing can possibly be as bad as that," he said. "Let us proceed atonce while the Good Lady still smiles upon us. Name of all thingswonderful, I can hardly believe I am still alive. _En avant, mesenfants!_"
With a sudden contempt for the shell blasted ground, that made Dave andFreddy grin in spite of the harrowing experience through which they hadjust past, the Sergeant sent the car scooting in and out around thecraters with the careless ease of driving along a wide boulevard. Inless time than it takes to tell about it he had driven clear out of thebarrage area and was skirting around a patch of woods toward another andas yet untouched road. And to show the kind of stuff he was made of theman began singing joyfully at the top of his voice.
For the next half hour the war seemed to fade far away. True there weresigns of it on all sides, and above their heads, but a certain feelingof security came to the boys as the Sergeant bumped them along roads andacross fields skirting around shell holes, artillery batteries, andreserve troops being rushed up to the Front. Yet somehow all that didn'ttouch them, now. A few hours ago they had been hiding in enemyterritory, two hunted prisoners of war. But now they were well behindthe Belgian lines and speeding toward headquarters where they woulddeliver enemy position information that would be of great value to theAllies. Two youths, sixteen and seventeen, had beaten the Germans attheir own game. Instead of revealing information of value to theGermans, they had escaped with German information valuable to theAllies.
Dave leaned his head back and sighed restfully. It sure made a fellowfeel good to have been of some help. And it made him feel twice as goodto have a pal like Freddy Farmer along with him. Freddy had certainlyproved his mettle in the tight corners. And regardless of what he'dsaid, Freddy probably would have done a better job of flying that Arado,too. At every turn the English youth popped up with a new side to him.He sure was glad Freddy and his ambulance had come along when they had.And, gee, just how long ago was that, anyway? Three days, or threeyears? It had been plenty long ago anyway.
At that moment Freddy suddenly sat forward and tapped the Sergeant onthe shoulder.
"Why are we heading east?" he asked and pointed at the last rays of thesetting sun. "If you're trying to get to Namur, you're going in thewrong direction."
"That is so," the Sergeant called back. "But, it is necessary. TheBoches have cut the road, and we must go around them. Soon it will bedark. It will not be so hard when it is dark. Do not worry, my littleone, we shall get there."
Freddy started to argue but seemed to think better of it. He sank backon the seat scowling thoughtfully at the setting sun. Dave looked at hima moment, and then spoke.
"What gives, Freddy?" he asked. "Do you think the Sergeant doesn't knowwhat he's doing?"
"No, he's probably right," the English youth said. "If the Namur roadhas been cut by the Germans we've got to go around them, of course. ButI've spent several summers in this part of Belgium, and...."
Freddy stopped short and leaned forward once more.
"Why can't we circle around them on the west, Sergeant?" he shouted."Can't you cut over and take the road leading south from Wavre?"
The Belgian let out a yell of consternation and stopped the car sosuddenly he almost pitched the two boys right over the back of the frontseat.
"The brain of a cat I have!" he shouted and thumped a big fist againsthis forehead. "But, of course, of course, my little one! Those bombs andshells! They must have made scrambled eggs out of what I have in myhead!"
Taking his foot off the brake the Belgian shifted back into low gear andgot the car underway again. At a crossroads some hundred yards ahead heturned sharp right and fed gas to the engine. A moment later a machinegun yammered savagely behind them. Dave twisted around in the seat andsaw an armored car bearing German army insignia racing for the turn-offthey had taken, but from the opposite direction. There was a machine gunmounted on the car and a helmeted German soldier was striving to getthem in his range.
The Belgian Sergeant took one quick glance back over his shoulder andinstantly gave the engine all the gas it could take.
"A lucky charm you are indeed!" he shouted and hunched forward over thewheel. "If you had not put sense in my head, and I had not turned offon to this road, we would have run right into them. And that would havebeen bad, very bad. Name of the Saints, the Lieutenant will reduce me toa corporal when he hears of this!"
Neither Dave nor Freddy bothered to make any comment. To tell the truththey were too busy hanging on tight and trying to stay in the car as itrocketed forward seeming virtually to leap across shell holes in theroad. The Sergeant perhaps did not have very many brains but hecertainly knew how to handle that small scouting car. He skipped acrossshell holes, dodged and twisted about trees blown down across it, androared right through scattered wreckage of bombed supply trucks and thelike as though they weren't even there. And all the time the machine gunfarther back snarled and yammered out its song of death.
The pursuing Germans had swung on to their road and were now strivingdesperately to overtake them. Dave stuck his head up to see if they hadgained, but before he could see anything Freddy grabbed him around thewaist and practically threw him down onto the floor of the car.
"Stay down, Dave!" the English youth shouted above the roar of thelittle car's powerful engine. "We've ducked enough bullets for one day.Don't be crazy!"
Dave grinned sheepishly and nodded.
"That was dumb!" he said. "You're right, and thanks!"
As the last left his lip
s a burst of bullets whined low over the car.Dave gulped and ducked his head.
"Thanks, and how!" he yelled. "Boy, those were close. If I'd beenlooking back they might ... _Hey!_"
At that moment the little car turned sharply to the right and seemed tozoom right up into the air. It came down with a crashing jolt. A showerof bush branches slithered down on the boys and they were tossed aroundin the back of the car like two peas in a pod. Puffing and panting, theystruggled to brace themselves before they were pitched out head overheels. No sooner would they get a firm hold on something than the scoutcar would careen up on its side and go darting off in another direction,and they would be bounced around again.
For a good ten minutes they tore through the darkening twilight firstthis way and then that way. Then suddenly the violent jolting ceasedabruptly, and the car ran along on an even keel. Covered with bumps andbruises from head to toe, the two boys scrambled up off the floor ofthe car and flopped down on the seat. The Belgian Sergeant pushed on thebrake and brought the car to a halt under the shelter of over-hangingtree branches. He switched the engine off and turned around and smiledat them triumphantly.
"We have lost the Boches!" he announced. "Everything is all right, now.When it gets dark we will continue. You, my little lucky charm, I mustthank you for putting sense in my head."
"That's quite, all right," Freddy said and fingered a lump behind hisright ear. "That was a fine bit of driving, Sergeant, even though youcame close to breaking our necks. Next time, though, please let us knowin time."
"You said it!" Dave gasped and nursed a barked shin. "And when you do,I'm going to jump out. Boy, talk about your wild rides!"
The Belgian Sergeant laughed and gestured with his big hands.
"But that was nothing!" he protested, "These little cars, they can go upthe side of a cliff. That German thing? Bah! It creeps along like asnail. You should have been with me and the Lieutenant yesterday. Ah,that was a ride! For a whole hour, mind you. And they were shooting atus from all sides. But we got through without a scratch. It waswonderful. You should have been there!"
"I think I'm glad I wasn't," Freddy said, and smiled so the Belgianwould not feel hurt. "But what, now? Where are we?"
Before he would reply the Belgian stuck a dirty cigarette between hislips and lighted up.
"We wait for the darkness, and that will not be long," he finally said.Then pointing across the field to the left, he continued, "One mile inthat direction and we strike a road that will lead us straight into theWavre-Namur road. Two hours at the most and we shall be there."
"Unless the Germans have cut it, too," Freddy murmured.
The Belgian looked at him and snorted.
"Impossible!" he said in a decisive voice. "They cannot have advancedthat far. Don't worry, _mes enfants_, I will get you to Namur in no timeat all. I ... _Sacre!_ Those are German tank guns!"
The pounding of guns had suddenly broken out from behind them and to theleft. Not the deep booming sound of long range pieces, but the sharpbark of small caliber guns. The sergeant pinched out his cigarette andstuck it in his pocket and slid out of the car. He stood motionless fora moment, head cocked on one side and listening intently to the guns.Dave listened, too, trying to tell if they were coming closer. A stripof woods broke up the sound, and it was impossible for him to tell.
He glanced at the sergeant and was startled to see the worried look onthe man's face. Worry and astonishment, as though the Belgian was tryingto convince himself that the truth was false. In the fast fading lightthe lines of his face deepened until it became a face of shadows.Suddenly he muttered something under his breath and pulled a Belgianarmy pistol from the holster at his side.
"Remain here!" he ordered in a hard voice. "This is most strange, and Imust investigate. Those cannot be German guns, but perhaps so. I will goand look, and return at once. Remain here, and wait!"
Without waiting for either of them to say a word, the Belgian glidedswiftly away from the car and was almost at once swallowed up in theshadows cast by the trees. Dave looked at Freddy.
"What do you think?" he asked. "If that's Germans coming this way, we'recrazy to stick around. Don't you think so?"
"Yes, I do," the English youth said bluntly. "But let's wait a littlebit. They may not be, and it wouldn't be quite fair dashing off andleaving the Sergeant to walk back, you know."
"Okay, we'll wait, then," Dave agreed. "Boy, but wasn't that some wildride! And it sure was lucky you spoke to him when you did. What I mean,you saved us from a tough spot. Hey, what's that?"
The tank guns had gone silent, but the yammer of a machine gun took upthe song. It sang a few notes and then became suddenly silent. Freddyjumped out of the car and beckoned to Dave.
"We'd better take a look, Dave," he said in a worried voice. "If theyare really close we wouldn't have a chance in the car. Our best betwould be to hide out in the woods until they've passed."
Dave jumped down and looked into Freddy's eyes.
"You mean?" he asked in a strained voice. "You think the Sergeant bumpedinto them, and they killed him?"
"I'm afraid so," Freddy nodded and swallowed. "We'd better make sure,though. Don't you think so?"
"Okay by me," Dave said, though he didn't feel so inside. "Lead on,Freddy. I'm right with you."
Dave Dawson at Dunkirk Page 12
