CHAPTER SIXTEEN
_Fate Laughs At Last_
"Right you are, lad, off you go, and good luck!"
The voice of the Lille hospital orderly came to Dave as though from athousand miles away. It came to him like a voice awakening him from asound sleep. He lifted his head and mechanically reached for the brakelever of the Daimler built ambulance and stared out of bloodshot eyes ata scene that had become as familiar to him as his own face when helooked into a mirror. It was the dirt road that wound away from theLille Hospital, curved about the small pond and then disappeared fromview in some woods a half mile to the east.
How many times had he driven over that road today? He didn't know, andhe didn't even bother to guess. Probably a hundred. Fifty at least. Hisbrain had stopped thinking about things hours ago. For hours his actionshad all been mechanical. A mechanical routine over and over again. Helpfill the ambulance at the Lille Hospital. Get in behind the wheel andstart the engine, and take off the brake, and shift into first. Startdown the winding road and shift into second, and then into high. Astretch of brown road always in front of him. Driving, driving, alwaysdriving forward. Skirting shell and bomb craters. Pulling in under thenearest group of trees whenever he heard the deadly drone of Stuka divebombers. Sitting crouched at the wheel while death whistled down fromthe sky to explode in the ground and spray slivers of screaming steelinto all directions.
Climbing in back to put a slipping bandage back in place. Lighting acigarette for some poor wounded soldier who couldn't use his hands.Giving them all a grin to cheer them up. Saying, "We'll be there in acouple of shakes," a million times. Starting on again. Stopping again.And then finally pulling into the St. Omer Hospital court. Helping tounload, and then the wild ride alone back to Lille for another load ofwounded. Fifty trips? A hundred trips? He had no idea. Maybe this washis one thousandth trip. Was he asleep or awake? He wasn't sure of that,either. His body had stopped protesting against the aches and pains longago. He simply didn't feel anything any more; didn't think anything. Heonly acted. He drove ... and drove ... and drove. Nothing elsemattered. Nothing else mattered but doing his share to make sure thatnot a single helpless wounded soldier was captured by the hordes of Nazitroops streaming across northern France and Belgium in a mad race to cutoff the British from the last open Channel port, Dunkirk.
As he took off the emergency brake he became conscious of somebodyclimbing into the seat beside him. He turned his head to stare intoFreddy Farmer's haggard, dirt streaked face.
"What's the matter, Freddy?" he mumbled. "What are you doing here?"
"Start her off, Dave," came the dull answer. "This is the last load. I'mriding with you. The Captain and his staff are using my ambulance. Man,but I'm tired!"
"Check," Dave grunted and shifted into first. "The last load, huh? Andit's just getting dark. Well, anyway, we licked 'em. The Nazis won'tfind anything there. Lean back and try to get a nap, Freddy."
"And you perhaps fall asleep at that wheel, and tip us into a ditch?"Freddy said with a forced chuckle. "No thanks. I'll stay awake and tryto keep you that way, too. By the by, though, Dave. You've made moretrips than anybody. Want me to drive this one?"
"Not a chance!" Dave said and suddenly realized that he was laughingfor the first time in hours. "I still remember that ride you gave me inthat Belgian scouting car. Nix. I'll do the driving. You just relax,Freddy. But, boy, will I be glad when this trip is over!"
"I'll be jolly well pleased, myself, you can bet!" Freddy murmured andstretched out his legs. "I think I shall sleep for another eight days,and not care a darn what the blasted Nazis do about it."
For the next twenty minutes that was the last spoken between the two.They were both too tired even to talk. Besides, there was little to talkabout save the experiences they had had on the road. Those they couldsave until another day. And after all there was still this trip tocomplete. And so they rode along in silence. The sun slid down over thewestern lip of the world, and night and the Germans came sweeping upfrom the east. Dave kept his head lights switched off until it was toodangerous to continue further without them. Perhaps it had just beenchance, or perhaps Goering's pilots had found out that the LilleHospital cases were being evacuated over that road. Anyway, the Stukasand the light Heinkels had given it a terrific pounding all day long,and it was now well spotted with craters. To try to drive along it inthe dark would be exactly the same as driving the ambulance over theedge of a cliff. It would be suicide, to say the least.
Dave hesitated a moment, though, with his hand on the switch andlistened intently. Behind him there was the incessant dull rumble of theguns, punctuated every now and then by the loud thunder of a land minegoing off. In the sky there was the drone of wings, but the droning wasnot close.
"Keep an eye peeled, will you, Freddy?" Dave said and turned the switch."I've got to have lights or we'll go right into a shell hole. If youhear something coming, yell, and I'll switch off these things."
"Right-o!" Freddy called wearily and stuck his head out the door windowand looked up. "All clear, now, though. None of the blighters near us. Isay, what's up, now?"
Dave didn't bother to answer. He, too, had spotted the waving flashlightjust up the road. He slipped the car out of gear, steered it around therim of a yawning bomb crater and let it roll to a stop. A Britishinfantry officer, with a Military Police band on his tunic sleeve, ranup to Dave's side of the ambulance and flashed his light in Dave's eyesfor a second.
"Where are you headed, lad?" he asked.
"St. Omer," Dave said. "We've got the last load of wounded from theLille hospital."
"Well, you can't take them to St. Omer," the officer said. "A mile upahead there's a road to the right. Take it and keep going until you'restopped. Whoever stops you will give you further directions. All right,off with you. Good luck."
"But, hey, why not St. Omer?" Dave blurted out. "We've been taking themthere all day."
"I know," the officer said in a half angry and half bored voice. "Butthey've all been evacuated again. To Dunkirk. Hitler's lads are in St.Omer, now. Better hop it. They may be here, soon."
Dave slammed the ambulance into gear and started off. Raging angersurged up within him. He gripped the bucking wheel until his hands hurt.Nazis are here! Nazis are there! Nazis are every place! Even thinking ofthe name made him want to start screaming and shouting at the top of hisvoice. He turned his head slightly and took a quick side glance atFreddy. The English youth's chin was firm, and there was the samedefiant look in his eyes. However, the droop of his shoulders spokeplainly of the bitter thoughts that were sweeping through his mind.Impulsively Dave let go a hand from the wheel for a second and slappedFreddy on the knee.
"Don't let it get you down, Freddy," he said. "They'll trim thestuffing out of Hitler before it's over."
"Of course," Freddy said in a heavy voice. "I wasn't thinking of that.If we could only have reached General Caldwell sooner."
"Gosh, we did our best!" Dave exploded. "And, besides, the General toldus it helped plenty. Gee, I hope he just wasn't kidding us. I don'tthink so, though. A man like General Caldwell doesn't kid, I bet. Well,here's the road. Wonder where it'll take us."
They had reached the turn off. So had some Stukas a couple of hoursbefore and they had marked it well with a cluster of bomb craters. Davehad to detour through a field to make the turn but he managed to getback onto the road. To his vast relief he found it hardly touched bybombs and he was able to speed up the ambulance. The good road helpedhis spirits, too. It boosted them up considerably and a lot of hisfatigue fell away from him. The same was true with Freddy. The Englishyouth continued to stare fixedly through the windshield at the glow ofthe headlights on the road, but his body seemed to straighten up, andthere was a less depressed air about him.
However, it was as though it all had been planned by the fatescontrolling the war and the immediate destinies of these two bravegallant youths. It was as though it was planned for them to be liftedup in spirit, and in strength, so that t
hey might have something leftwith which to face the next misfortune of the conflict to befall them.
The first indication that there was more trouble ahead came as theyroared around a bend in the road, and then the road straightened outlike an arrow.
"My gosh, look!" Dave cried and pointed. "Like an earthquake had hit itor something!"
Both sides of the road, as far as they could see in the glow of theheadlights, were strewn with heaped up piles of war equipment wreckage.Guns from machine gun size to heavy howitzers lay scattered about.Ammunition wagons were over on their sides, their contents spilled onthe ground like sand from a box. Shell blasted tanks rested in softground at crazy angles, some of them blown wide open, and all of them ofno more use to anybody.
"Gosh, like driving through a junk yard!" Dave grunted and unconsciouslyslowed down the ambulance. "What do you suppose happened? Gee, that'sEnglish stuff, too. See the markings?"
"Yes," Freddy replied. "And I think I can guess what happened. Aretreating British column was caught here by the bombers, I think. Youcan see where the craters were filled in so the rest of them could carryon. What equipment they couldn't take, they destroyed so that theGermans wouldn't get it. Look, Dave! There's another flashlight chap upahead. And he's English! I can see him clearly, now."
"Right," Dave nodded as he too caught sight of the khaki clad figure,with an M.P. band on his arm, standing in the middle of the road.
He slipped the ambulance out of gear and let it roll to a stop and stuckhis head out the door window.
"We've got wounded here!" he said as the officer moved forward. "Theyturned us off onto this road, back a few miles. Said the next officer wemet would give us instructions."
"More wounded?" the officer echoed in an exasperated voice. "I seriouslydoubt if there'll be room. But get along. First turn left, and two milesstraight. A railroad junction there, and still working, I certainlyhope! They'll take your men. Now, chase along with you!"
"What happened here?" Dave asked and reached for the gear shift lever.
"The worst!" the officer snapped, and gestured with his hand. "Stukascaught a whole battalion. Nasty business! Now, chase, do you hear?"
Dave didn't wait to argue about that. He sent the car rolling forwardand kept his eyes open for the turn to the left. He came to it presentlyand turned off. It was also more or less untouched by bombs so he couldkeep his speed steady. In almost no time they came upon a whole army ofBritish soldiers. They jammed the road and overflowed on both sides.Hundreds of pairs of eyes were turned their way as their headlights cutthrough the night. A soldier with sergeant's chevrons on his sleevesrushed up to them.
"Shut off those blasted lights, you fool!" he roared. "You want theJerry planes to ... Good grief, a couple of _kids!_ What's this?"
"Ambulance with wounded from Lille, Sergeant," Freddy called out to him."The officer back there told us to take them to the rail junction. Howfar is it?"
"Wounded, eh?" the sergeant grunted. "Well, that's a sight different.Keep going. You're practically there, mates."
The sergeant stepped back and cupped big hands to his mouth.
"Make way!" he thundered at the road choked mass of British troops."Ambulance! Make way there, you chaps! Ambulance! Give them the horn,lad. That'll make 'em jump."
The sergeant barked the last at Dave as the ambulance started forward.Dave got the car in high then held his hand on the horn. Freddy got outon the running board and started shouting, "Make way for an ambulance!"at the top of his voice. For two or three awful seconds Dave was afraidthat the soldiers were going to refuse to move. But the shouted word,"Ambulance!" finally did the trick. They shuffled off to both sides andleft a path down the middle of the road. Driving with one hand andkeeping his other on the horn, Dave steered the ambulance down that pathuntil a bomb shattered railroad bridge stopped him. There was no need ofgoing farther anyway.
They had reached the rail junction, or at least what was left of it.Eastward from the bridge the track was just so much twisted steel, butwestward from the bridge it had not been touched, by some strangemiracle. There was a long train of some twenty cars on the track with anengine at the far end. Dimmed lights were moving around all over theplace like fire-flies on a muggy night. The murmur of many voices filledthe air, and as Dave got his eyes accustomed to the scene he saw thatlong lines of battle weary soldiers were climbing into the cars. Andthen out of nowhere a squad of soldiers with white bands on their tunicsleeves swooped down on the ambulance.
"Shut off your motor, mate!" a voice shouted. "You won't be needing itany more. Step lively, you lads. Easy with the poor blighters, now.That's the way."
Before Dave and Freddy could climb stiff legged down from the ambulancethe white banded group of soldiers had the rear doors open and weregently but swiftly lifting out the wounded on stretchers and carryingthem to the train. Nobody talked. Even the wounded made no sound.Everybody seemed to realize that all that counted was speed, and theywere concentrating on that alone. Dave watched for a minute or so andthen went up to the soldier who had given the orders.
"Where's the train going?" he asked.
"Dunkirk, unless the Jerry fliers stop us," the soldier replied withoutlooking at him. "Any more of these chaps coming along in back of you?"
"This is the last load from Lille," Dave said. "I don't know about anyothers."
"Lille?" the soldier gasped and seemed startled. "I thought the Jerrieswere there!"
"I fancy they are, now," Freddy spoke up. "I say, will there be roomenough for us on that train, do you think?"
"Always room for two more on anything," the soldier grunted and watchedthe stretchers disappear into the maze of moving lights. "You chapsjust follow me, and I'll...."
The soldier never finished the rest of that sentence. At any rate, if hedid, the boys didn't hear him. At that moment there came the faint droneof engines high in the sky and to the east. Instantly it seemed asthough a thousand men put whistles to their lips and all blew them atthe same time.
"Bombers!" roared one fog horn voice.
"Everybody aboard!" bellowed another.
"Never mind your kit, you men, get aboard!" thundered a third.
"All lights out!" a fourth voice carried above all the others.
In the wink of an eye the moving lights stopped moving and went out. Allwas plunged into darkness. A darkness filled with grunting sounds on theground, and the throbbing beat of approaching airplanes overhead.Instinctively Dave and Freddy grabbed hands and started moving towardthe train. No sooner had they taken a dozen steps than they ran smackinto a wall of solid flesh. They tried to force their way through but itwas as futile as trying to push a tidal wave to one side. They alonewere not the only ones trying to get aboard that train. A few hundredothers had the same idea.
Suddenly the shrill whistle of the engine cut through all other sound. Amoment later the angry roar from hundreds of throats told Dave andFreddy that the train was moving. They stopped trying to push forward,and simply stood there listening to the angry shouting of the troops whocould not get aboard, and the sound of the train as it picked up speedand went racing off toward the east.
"Here they are! Everybody scatter!"
Perhaps it was the same fog horn voice, and perhaps it wasn't. Anyway,everybody heard the command and started moving. A moment later the airbecame filled with the howl of diving wings. Further orders were notnecessary. In a flash Dave thought of the bomb blasted bridge. The roadhad once dipped down under it, but now it was no more than a cave madeout of jagged chunks of stone with twisted steel rails and splinteredties for roof shingling. He grabbed Freddy by the arm and spun them botharound.
"That busted bridge!" he shouted in his friend's ear. "We can crawl downunder it. We should be safe."
"Just thinking of that, myself!" Freddy shouted back as they both brokeinto a run. "Those blasted Stukas! Will we never hear the last of them!"
As though to punctuate that sentence the leading bomber swooped low,dumped its load a
nd went screaming up into the night sky. Its bombstruck a hundred yards away but the concussion seemed to lift both ofthe boys off their feet. It put wings on their feet as well. They dashedmadly through the roaring darkness, missed turned-over trucks and hunksof the bombed station by inches, and finally scrambled down under thebridge and into the cave-like hole blown out of one of the supportingwalls. They crawled back over the broken stones as far as they could andsat huddled together listening to the world blow apart over their heads.
"Well, at least we got our load of wounded aboard!" Dave shouted asthere came a lull in the bedlam of thunderous sound. "That's something,I guess."
"Yes, we didn't let them down," Freddy's voice came faintly. "Phew, butI'm tired. Stukas or no Stukas, I don't think I can keep awake anotherminute."
The words seemed to touch something inside Dave. He too became suddenlylistless in both mind and body. He felt Freddy sagged against him and hebattled to keep his eyes open; to keep a look-out in case they mighthave to change their place of shelter. But ton weights hung on his eyelids, and it was impossible to keep them open any longer. Above themworlds exploded sound and flame. Underneath them worlds shook andtrembled as each devastating blow was struck. None of it, however,reached the two boys. Young strong bodies had taken an awful beating forhours on end, and they needed rest. Time might cease, and the worldcould come to an end, but it would have no effect on Dave Dawson andFreddy Farmer, for they were both sound asleep.
Dave Dawson at Dunkirk Page 16
