“Yes, I believe you are right. I think they are running out of ammunition. Note how the Germans are slowly advancing after being fought to a standstill for so long. If so, it will not be long now.”
It soon became apparent that their assumptions had been correct, as one by one, the British began raising makeshift white flags and putting aside their weapons, which Alexander took as an accepted sign of surrender. In short order the advancing Germans had overrun their positions, roughly herding their prisoners into groups of tired but defiant looking men, their hands held high as they were searched for valuables. Watches and wallets were taken, along with a number of souvenirs, mainly cap badges or uniform insignia. He noted that the Germans were not treating the prisoners well and he felt a pang of sympathy for the defeated soldiers, wondering what would happen to them next. Along the two roads, which had been so bravely defended moments before, columns of fresh German troops could now be seen, some marching, others on tracked vehicles.
After a few minutes, the fresh troops had begun passing through the village, travelling towards the next one, moving ever closer to the rear-guard of the British main force situated on the outskirts of Dunkirk, the largest port town in the vicinity. From here, he could see clearly their attempts to get onto the waiting boats, despite constant attacks from the air.
Alexander brought his attention back to the nearby village. From his position of safety, he felt uncomfortable watching how the prisoners were being treated. An empty house, abandoned by its owners before the fighting started, had been used by the British to house and treat their wounded, yet the Germans forced those inside that could stand to walk out into the open, despite their obvious pain and discomfort.
Suddenly, from inside the house, came multiple cracks of weapon fire. The prisoners forced outside became agitated and several were hit with rifle butts and forced to the ground as they attempted to go back inside. From their distress, it was apparent they feared the worst and Alexander began to doubt his earlier view that the German soldiers were disciplined and professional, as it appeared they had summarily executed those prisoners unable to walk.
Feeling sick inside and not wanting to see any brutality, Alexander switched his attention to the other drone, which was monitoring the nearby evacuation site on the coast. Hundreds, if not thousands, of soldiers were lining up, wading out into the cold water, waiting for small boats to pull up at the end of the long column of people. On what was obviously a dock, larger ships took on ragged lines of soldiers, again patiently waiting their turn. Alexander was impressed and deeply moved by the men’s stoicism, for there was little or no struggling for position and the discipline of the men in the face of such hardship was quite remarkable.
”These soldiers look every bit as good as my father’s own bodyguard,” he thought to himself, “they might be retreating but they are maintaining their discipline and don’t act as if they have lost. I think I like these people.”
He watched as several of the bent-wing German planes came down out of the cloud and began lining themselves up to attack the beach, with sirens attached somewhere on the fuselage beginning their wail as they dived.
“Clever, a primitive form of psychological warfare,” he thought, watching the men crowding the beach start to scatter, seeking cover in the sand dunes or behind one of the many destroyed or abandoned vehicles littering the area. Unexpectedly, two beautifully shaped fighters, with red white and blue roundels on their wings, suddenly descended out of the low cloud, heading straight towards the descending German planes, tracer fire spitting out of their elliptical wings. One of the descending bombers began to trail thick, black oily smoke and it was obvious to Alexander the pilot had been hit, for as the others peeled away, the damaged one continued to descend, its siren wailing, until it plunged into the sandy beach in a huge fireball, the bombs adding to the furious explosion of detonating aviation fuel. A loud cheer rose up from the soldiers on the beach and Alexander felt himself sharing their elation.
The fighter which had shot down the attacker briefly waggled its wings at the cheering men below before the two headed off after the retreating enemy planes which were now desperately trying to reach the safety of the low cloud cover. As he watched, a flight of twelve new planes appeared out of the clouds, strafing the beach and heading off after the first two. These new arrivals looked menacing and were obviously also fighters. Curiously, although of similar size, they were more angular, lacking the flowing lines and grace of the first two. Black and white crosses on the wings matched symbols he had seen on the German vehicles. Alexander concentrated, trying to make sense of what was happening in the skies and watched as the heavily outnumbered British planes also sought the comparative safety of the clouds.
“Alex,” Vimes voice sounded in his head, bringing him back from watching the aerial dogfight, “the Germans are on the move with their prisoners and it looks as if they will pass nearby.”
The British had all been rounded up into a group of around a hundred, who had formed themselves into a line and were marching in a disciplined fashion. He watched as they moved through the village, where the occasional twitch of a window curtain was the only sign they were being observed by the locals who had wisely decided to stay inside and not get involved. As they marched, it was obvious that a number of the prisoners would not be able to keep up, despite being helped by their comrades who, quite rightly, feared what might happen to them. These fears were well founded, for once they had all passed through the small village and out into the open countryside, five of the more obviously wounded were separated from the main group by six of the German soldiers and forced towards the copse of trees where Alexander was hiding. The rest of the prisoners objected but were silenced yet again by well-aimed blows of the German’s rifle butts and several warning shots into the air and ground at their feet. A British soldier, obviously an officer, began to object to his opposite number but was silenced by a blow to his stomach that doubled him over. His men pulled him away, saving him from a potentially brutal beating or worse.
Alexander felt his heartbeat increase and he began to worry about what would happen next. Although he felt relatively safe, as he had dug himself deep into the grass and leaf mould under the tree bole, he worried what would happen to the wounded prisoners. His small side-arm could easily kill the six soldiers who were forcing the wounded into the trees, but whether he would be able to take on the rest of them, he didn’t know. While he was debating with himself, a fusillade of shots rang out, sadly resolving the problem for him. The Germans spent a few minutes covering the bodies, then left the trees, hurrying to catch up with their comrades, who were forcing the remaining prisoners to follow the road out into the open farmland.
He waited for the six to leave the trees, listening as they laughed and joked about what they had done, then slowly made his way over to where the murdered prisoners lay.
Thinking of himself as a scholar and always having been slightly distasteful of the military, Alexander had never seen a dead body before nor seen the aftermath of a battle close up. In books and documentaries yes, but never in reality. As Alexander approached, he identified the smell of coppery blood and evacuated bowels and recoiled from what he had to do. Moving away the Germans half-hearted attempt to conceal the bodies, he looked down at the bodies and his shaking hands. “Vimes, can you help me with this please, I can’t keep them still?”
Immediately, the shaking subsided, then stopped, but his anxiety and nausea remained. The prisoners had each been executed by a shot to the back of their head, the small entry wounds in stark contrast to the gaping holes at the front. Despite Vimes help, he suddenly turned his head and vomited up what remained of his meagre breakfast. He doubled over, hands on knees, retching for a minute, then straightened up and wiped his mouth, nervously checking where the Germans had got to. They were now several hundred yards distant and half-way to a group of red brick structures that looked to be farm buildings. Not knowing what to do with the dead bodies and tota
lly unaware of what, if any, religious practices might have been followed by these men, all he could think of was to stand to attention and make the Imperial salute. He stood there for a full minute, clenched right fist on left breast and consigned their souls to whatever deity might be appropriate for them. He felt this was the right thing to do, even though he had held their profession with the mild disdain many academics felt towards the military.
“I’m going to follow at a distance,” he told Vimes, sending instructions to the second drone for it to watch over the area, sending the first to follow the Germans as they walked along the road.
“Are you sure, Alex?” came the reply, “the risk far outweighs simple curiosity. We know these German soldiers are ruthless and seemingly without a moral compass, so why follow them further?”
“Because if I’m to decide which side to join, I need to know exactly what I’ll be letting myself in for,” Alexander replied, not really wanting to follow, but determined to see for himself what fate was going to befall the remainder. If they were also going to be killed out of hand then he knew there was no way he could join with the Germans. He was also feeling ashamed that his hesitation had resulted in these men’s death and part of him wanted to try and make amends, even though he didn’t know how. He left the copse of trees and made sure he was on the field side of the hedgerows lining the road so any German looking back towards the town wouldn’t see him. He checked his weapon was ready for firing and ran along the bushes, keeping his head down and using the drones to ensure he didn’t get too close. Ten minutes later, the Germans reached the farm buildings and ushered the prisoners between them and into the fields beyond.
Alexander hunkered down out of sight and followed a hedgerow running diagonally around the buildings, providing cover as he ran between clumps of trees that dotted the field. The observation drone told him he had reached the last tree and bushes large enough to provide cover, next to a small pool and some thirty yards from where the men had been brought to a halt, in front of a weathered wooden barn. Even from where he was watching, the barn smelt as though it was home to the cows dotted around the fields. Deciding he wanted to hear everything that was going on, Alexander formed a helmet around his head and activated the audio pickups, linking them into those of the drones. He was now able to merge all the information and form a three-dimensional picture from any part of the scene.
By now, the sun had risen high in the late May sky and the earlier dark clouds were all burned off, although some could still be seen over the coast and out to sea. The temperature had warmed up considerably and he felt sorry for the prisoners who were all being herded into the small barn. After the last one went in, the large wooden doors were closed and wedged shut by the German soldiers. Inside, as the Germans outside debated what to do next, conditions rapidly deteriorated, the smell of the manure on the floor adding to the stifling heat in the windowless barn, making conditions unbearable, especially for those who were wounded but had been able to travel. With no room for the men to sit or lay down, everyone was forced to remain upright.
Alexander heard a banging on the door from inside, and a voice say, “For the love of God, there is no more room in here.”
Outside, several Germans obviously understood English for they laughed, with one of them, obviously an officer by the markings on his tunic, calling out, “Where you are going there will be a lot of room,” which he then translated for the benefit of his men who joined in the laughter.
The voice inside the barn continued, resignation sounding in the voice as the speaker obviously knew or suspected what was going to happen next. “Well, at least allow us one last smoke.”
Alexander brought one of the drones down to behind the barn so it was able to pick up clearly what was being said inside. Something was happening and Alexander surmised that smoking was the activity he had earlier observed when the men were sucking on the paper tubes and blowing out smoke. He managed to catch a hushed conversation from one of the men, “This is it, Bert. We’re finished, ” then he saw two Germans approach the doors, open them a little and throw in two sticks with bulbous ends, hurriedly shutting them again. Using the drones sensors he observed the heat signatures of two soldiers inside throw themselves onto the sticks, moments before they exploded, the noise and blast muffled by the bodies and closed doors. The men had obviously sacrificed themselves to save their comrades, leaving Alexander to marvel at their bravery.
Outside, the Germans were laughing and Alexander was having trouble controlling his emotions. Part of him wanted to run at the Germans and try his best to stop what was happening but another, larger part was undecided and afraid of what might happen, leaving him paralysed with what he thought was fear.
From inside the barn came shouts of anger and pain, much to the amusement of those outside. The commanding officer spoke to his men and they all raised their weapons and began shooting at the barn, the bullets easily penetrating the thin wooden fabric of the building, wrecking havoc amongst the tightly packed men inside. Screams of pain followed, but despite this, the firing continued for another minute before stopping. The drones sensors showed that most of the men inside were dead or dying, but miraculously a few had survived and had lain down amongst their colleagues, feigning death.
The Germans outside pulled open the double doors and began searching through the bodies, pulling anyone they found alive outside and shooting them in the head. As this was happening, Alexander saw two of the British take their chance to run out of the building and make a break for it, one of them severely wounded in the arm which was all but hanging off. He was helped by an officer, who bravely refused to leave his man, despite being able-bodied and unscathed. They ran in Alexander’s direction, wading through the small pond full of shallow, dirty water, pursued by one of the Germans who began firing at them with his pistol.
Alexander was shaking, wanting to do something but paralysed by fear and indecision, unable to even ask Vimes what to do or for help. He watched helplessly as the badly wounded man stumbled as they reached the waters edge, falling to the floor. The officer refused to leave his man and stood his ground, giving up his chance for life as the German approached. Almost in front of Alexander, the British officer was shot at point-blank range in the face, falling down to lie alongside the comrade he had so bravely refused to leave. The German walked over to the injured soldier, looked down and shot him in the head too, before turning away and walking back to the barn where his colleagues were finishing their gruesome task.
Hidden behind the bushes, Alexander could do nothing except look at the open eyes of the officer, which were staring into eternity. He began to sob quietly, ashamed at himself for not coming to their aid and moved beyond words at the soldier's bravery in the face of certain death. He felt worthless at not having the nerve to help them, keeping himself hidden instead. The hot pain of embarrassment and emotion welled up within him, his large frame wracked with sobs of humiliation and shame.
After a few minutes, he crawled away, again using the trees and hedgerows for cover, until he found a small depression amidst a few trees where he was able to sit down and hide. He recalled the drones, not wanting to see anything else and sat quietly, his insides burning with revulsion at himself, not caring now whether he ever got back to the Empire and wondering if he would ever be able to look at himself in a mirror without feeling shame. Through his misery, he kept thinking of the men’s bravery, how two had thrown themselves on the explosives and the selflessness of the officer in staying with his comrade to the end.
After perhaps half an hour, Alexander began to regain his composure and spoke to Vimes, who had remained uncharacteristically quiet during the episode.
“Where were you? Why didn’t you help me back there? With your help I might have been able to do something,” Alexander angrily accused his companion, looking to deflect some of the blame.
“I was helping you, Alex, helping you to understand some things about human nature that no amount of book learning
can ever teach you. About human nature. About yours. Today you witnessed two sides; one noble and self-sacrificing, the other violent and barbaric and little better than an unthinking machine. Having witnessed this today, will you ever be tempted to act like those Germans? If you should ever find a way home and become Emperor, with the power of life and death over trillions, will you be tempted to behave in that way? Sensing how you are feeling now, I think not.” Vimes voice was unusually subdued as he continued, “You have always put great store on book learning, believing it to be all that mattered, but no matter how much you might have known about things like this on an intellectual level, now you have actually experienced it for yourself, do you still think it is all that matters in your life? Duty, sacrifice, honour, integrity are not just words on a page, Alex, but a code by which any decent person should lead their life, especially one who enjoys so many privileges as you do.”
Alexander stayed silent, sorry he had tried to put some of his guilt onto Vimes.
“That officer could have saved himself by leaving his wounded comrade behind, but, in the end, there were things more important to him than even his own life. What you now have to decide is what kind of man and Emperor you want to become. That is how I have helped you today. The rest is up to you.”
Alexander sat alone with his thoughts and shame until making a decision that would shape the rest of his long life. No matter what the odds, he would try and honour that officer's bravery. Never again would he stand by and watch evil men prey on the defenceless without acting.
Scene 14, Capital
“This is some surprise, Adam,” Karen said to Adam, on the third day of her whirlwind tour of Capital, the two of them sitting side by side in the yachts control room, watching the huge bulk of the planet on the large viewscreen, Karen on the left, Adam to the right. Beneath them, the planet rotated as they sped around in orbit, giving Karen a birds-eye view of her new home. She was enjoying the flight and had begun experimenting with Vimes and her implant, using it to provide a running commentary of information on any subject she needed answers for. At first, it had been disconcerting, thinking of a question and having the information presented to her or downloaded into long-term memory without the effort of having to learn.
Imperium: Revelation: Book Two in the Imperium Trilogy Page 12
