“We never really expected to have to fight them up here,” Barron said, more to himself than to Jackson. “We ensured that the best equipment and the best training went to the forces near Dover, where we expected the Germans would have to land if they wanted to invade us. They’ve outflanked the fixed defences until they reach the GHQ line surrounding London and half of our communications are down.”
Jackson recognised the offer of absolution and allowed himself to relax slightly. “Sir, they can’t succeed, can they?” He asked. “I mean… there’s the Navy, and the Air Force, and…”
“The Royal Navy was hit pretty badly last night,” Barron said shortly. For the first time, Jackson detected a tiny hint of despair underlying his voice. “I don’t have any details, but the War Office — which was also hit last night — sent a warning to the effect that I couldn’t count on either naval interdiction of the Jerry supply lines or naval gunfire being directed onto the German positions. The RAF sent in a pair of recon aircraft and both of them were shot down; the Germans are not only bombing strategic targets across Britain, but they’re maintaining a constant CAP over their own landing site.”
He paused. “We’re going to need you and your men debriefed by the Intelligence Corps, but at the moment, we think that the main focus of German activity is here, coming towards us from Felixstowe,” he said. “ I have spotters out and we’re struggling to establish a line of soldiers to block the enemy from advancing without casualties. The worst problem at the moment is civilian refugees; it’s been too long since we had any drills and that’s starting to show.”
Jackson winced. “What are they doing?”
“The BBC hasn’t been able to formulate any message yet, but the arrival of the Germans is common knowledge in this area and several thousand civilians fled at once for the west,” Barron said. “The people are blocking the roads and trying to catch trains while we’re trying to organise military convoys and reinforcements for here. I’ve used soldiers to clear some of the roads, but mostly the refugees are being urged to return to their homes.”
Jackson shook his head. “They won’t take that advice, sir,” he said, remembering all the horror stories about how the Germans conducted themselves in occupied lands. There would probably be rumours of German atrocities already, even though none of them would ever be confirmed and probably hadn’t happened. “Is there anything else that they might do?”
“A few hundred German refugees and Danes have been lynched,” Barron said. “It’s not something that I can do much about, particularly as many of them might have been spying for the Germans before they landed, but it’s another problem for us.” He shook his head. “Now, before the Intelligence Corps get their hands on you, how many soldiers do you have left?”
“Forty-one,” Jackson said, cursing his own failure. His original company had been decimated; the unit he’d brought out of the chaos had been the remains of several units, all of which had lost over half of their number in the desperate fighting around the port. “Several of them are injured, sir, and we’re low on ammunition.”
“They’ll go into the personnel pool at the moment,” the General said. “The injured ones are to report back to see the doctors, but if they can still fight, we’re going to need them as part of the defence line. They’ll probably end up being formed into a new company with other stragglers and you’ll have command; there won’t be time for proper formalities.”
“Sir, I…”
Barron ignored him. “I have Sergeants running companies and Lieutenants commanding entire sections because of the vast shortage of personnel,” he commented, his voice icy. “I need you to take command of one of the reformed companies and get it back up into fighting trim, quickly.”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson said, pushing his doubts about himself aside. “How long do we have?”
Barron held up a hand as the noise of an aircraft came in from the east. “That’s not one of ours,” he said, his voice hushed. Jackson raised an eyebrow; he’d never been able to tell the difference between a British jet aircraft and a German jet aircraft. “I think that that bastard is up there spying on our positions, which means that they have to know just how weak and disorganised we are, and if they come bursting out…”
Jackson remembered. He’d studied the Nazi campaigns in France and Poland, and one thing had been clear; the Nazis had never given the French or Poles a chance to recover from their early defeats, pushing forward and trying to scatter them before the command structure could recover from the shocks of the first blow. There had still been thousands of armed and dangerous men scattered across the country, but the controlling brains had been stunned and unable to draw their far flung units back into a coherent formation.
The Germans hadn’t knocked the British out with a single punch, but if they could secure their grip on Suffolk, they would be much harder to dislodge. They were expanding their grip on the coast to speed up their unloading operations, and if they built up enough supplies…
He remembered taking part in a training session organised by Basil Liddell Hart, back before Liddell Hart had been placed on half-pay — again — for some unspecified offence. They’d seen, then, what tanks could do and how hard they were to stop, particularly if there were no friendly air units or tanks around to assist in stopping them. The Germans had respected Liddell Hart’s theories and they’d been the ones who’d put them into practice; they would build up, attack, and then start marching to London. They were confined, at the moment, to a small lodgement; could they be destroyed before they could build up and attack?
“Can we not attack them?” Jackson asked, after a moment’s pause. “We could try and knock them back into the sea…”
“We’re too disorganised to mount a proper attack,” Barron said. “We’re pitifully short of armour and supporting elements; we’re having some moved up, but if we hadn’t been holding a training drill, we wouldn’t have had any tanks at all. We can hold the Germans and execute a fighting withdrawal, but actually stopping them will be difficult, let alone launching a counter-attack If we get the divisions we’ve been promised, we might be able to start thinking about a counter-attack, but at the moment, our orders are to hold the line and preserve as much as possible for future operations.”
He tapped the map on his desk. “I’ve distributed recon units, between Ipswich and Felixstowe, and we should have warning of any renewed German push to the west,” he said. “Our main defence line will be here” — he drew a half-circle in front of Ipswich — “as preserving the road and rail connections in the city will be of paramount importance. Your unit, once reformed and rearmed, will join in the defences and hold the Germans.”
“Yes, sir,” Jackson said.
“You’ll be briefed on communications protocols as soon as you reach the line,” Barron concluded. “If we can hold them, we have a chance of putting an end to this invasion before half the country is overrun; good luck.”
“Thank you, sir,” Jackson said, saluting again.
The discussion with the Intelligence Corps office — a person whose face managed to combine attentiveness with a certain rat-like malice — was more like an interrogation. The interview was mainly focused on what sort of forces Jackson had seen, but the officer also managed to get in a few criticisms of Jackson’s operations, and even a hint that Jackson had fled in the face of the enemy. The missing Colonel Felton-Smith was also blasted, although as Jackson suspected he’d been caught by the Germans and either killed or captured, there was little point in ripping apart his reputation.
“This is a waste of my time,” he concluded, after the fourth suggestion that he had fled. “I don’t know enough for you to make any real recommendations to the General and you are preventing me from getting on with my job.”
The officer managed to look both astonished and suspicious. “It is impossible to say,” he said, in a voice that was more like a whine than a dignified tone, “just what part of the puzzle will allow the rest to fall into pla
ce. You may not know what you know, but if I can put it together with the remainder of my information, I may be able to learn something important. I have already learnt that the Germans have moved nine heavy freighters into the port and have sent out all of the ships that we had in harbour that were seaworthy.”
Jackson saw the implication at once. “They might be able to reinforce faster than we expected,” he realised. “Is that what you meant?”
“They have several divisions right on the other side of the Channel,” the officer informed him. “If we know how much tonnage they have at their disposal, we can estimate how quickly they can reinforce their forces and expand their beachhead.”
Jackson scowled at him. “If you’re so smart, how could you not know that the invasion was coming?”
“Some suspected trouble,” the officer admitted, grimly. “They just didn’t realise how the Germans would spearhead their attack.”
An hour later, Jackson stood on a car and examined the line of soldiers standing in front of him. Most of them were Home Guard; the survivors of his force and some others, a handful were regular soldiers who had been caught away from their regiments and had been co-opted into the makeshift company rather than being allowed to make their way back to their units. Jackson hoped that the army bureaucracy had managed to catch up with this change, or the men were likely to end up facing charges of desertion in the face of the enemy, which carried the death penalty. They would have to prove that the Home Guard had drafted them and that wasn’t going to be easy.
“We’ve taken a beating,” he said, grimly, watching them. They looked despondent, some of them bitterly determined to carry on fighting, others broken and shattered by the experience. The Germans had beaten them off and defeated them… and, for a unit that had never known defeat before, it could be disastrous. “They threw us back and killed hundreds of our friends and fellow soldiers, and they now think that they’ve won.”
He leaned forwards. “They’re dead wrong,” he decried. “We fought well and bravely against those paratroopers, and we chased them away from their targets. We hurt the Germans and now, without their advantage of surprise, we’re going to hurt them again. They’re going to come at us again and this time, we’re going to kick them right where it hurts! This is the sort of fighting we are trained to do, with weapons we understand and well-built positions, and we are going to hold the Germans. This time, we are going to hold!
“They’re going to come at us with tanks and heavy weapons, but we’re going to stop them,” he continued. “We’re going to hold and we’re going to make them regret that they ever came into our country and attacked us. Behind their lines, our wives and children are trapped… and we’re going to free them. Do you understand?”
“Sir, yes, sir,” they shouted back.
“I expect each and every one of you to hold the line until they withdraw or we are given orders to fall back,” Jackson thundered. “If a man should leave his post without orders, I’ll shoot him in the back myself. We are going to hold them, whatever it takes, and win time for our forces to regroup and crush the ratzis like bugs. No one breaks, no one runs; we hold and we fight as a body!”
The march through the countryside was surprisingly quick; they found the defence line, such as it was, without too many problems, although the presence of German aircraft, high in the sky, warned that the Germans were watching them. Jackson saw the German aircraft, so high up that it was barely visible, and wondered what had happened to the RAF. Had the remainder of the country been attacked as well? The General hadn’t said that there had been any other incursions, but if the Germans could have launched more than one, wouldn’t they have tried? The soldiers grumbled a little as they joined in the construction works, but Jackson was starting to realise that he might have made a mistake; the line just wasn’t very solid. They all knew how to dig foxholes and hiding positions for the guns, but when the Germans came down the road towards Ipswich, they were likely to have very few problems in punching through the line.
“I want those antitank guns set up to provide covering fire,” Jackson ordered, pushing his concerns aside while he prepared his lines. The colonel commanding the hundreds of men who were funnelling into the area seemed to have a clear idea of what he was doing, but he was clearly worried about being encircled; the Germans would probably have the advantage in manoeuvre war. They would want to take Ipswich intact, because of the road and rail connections, but they could do that by starving out the town, rather than simply trying to take it by storm.
It made him wonder what preparations were being made in Ipswich itself. Were there Home Guardsmen there being prepared for a siege, or were they considering declaring the city an open city, no soldiers from either side allowed. If that happened, the Germans would probably ignore the declaration, just as they had ignored a similar attempt on the part of the Russians. They had stormed Stalingrad by force and killed almost all of the inhabitants, those who hadn’t bowed the knee quickly enough. They had then gone on to impose their domination on large chunks of Russia, encouraged the Shah of Iran into rebellion, and won the war. Did anyone truly recognise the growing threat before it hit them?
He shook his head. The English countryside looked so safe and tranquil…
But, to the east, the Germans were gathering their forces. Soon, he knew, they would attack.
Chapter Seventeen
London, England
The Members of Parliament looked stunned and disorientated as they filed into the chamber, some of them fresh from viewing the damage to Downing Street and the results of the pitched battle in St James’ Park. The remaining German commandos had fought to the death and had left behind nothing but rubble when they had finally been crushed under the weight of superior fire-power Alex DeRiemer suspected that some of the commandos had actually escaped in the chaos, but it would be impossible to know for certain until they resurfaced, if they resurfaced. They might just have gone to ground and decided to wait until German panzers reached London.
He cast an eye down at Churchill. The former First Lord of the Admiralty and the new Prime Minister — almost all of the remaining Cabinet members were dead — looked grim. He’d spoken briefly to DeRiemer and Monty, ordering DeRiemer to stay with him and Monty to attempt to make some sense out of the reports that were pouring in from across the country. DeRiemer would have preferred to be working with the intelligence reports himself, but Churchill’s orders had been clear; he wanted the man who had predicted the new German offensive with him. DeRiemer didn’t know if he should feel honoured or very nervous.
The MPs settled down, quieter than normal. He saw a young lady in the Conservative ranks, her face pinched and grave, very grave. Others looked as if they were on the verge of heart attacks; the rumours placed the German Army within hours of London, something that was technically true, but only if they met no opposition.
DeRiemer was now convinced that Dover was a feint; the searching soldiers hadn’t encountered a single enemy parachutist, not even someone who had bailed out of a crashing aircraft. Dover was silent; the same could not be said for Suffolk. The Germans were on the land now, standing where Napoleon had failed; England had been invaded.
The Speaker gavelled for attention.
“Honourable Members,” he said, his own voice shaking, “I call upon the Right Honourable Winston Churchill, recently confirmed by His Majesty the King as Prime Minister, to address this august body.”
DeRiemer wondered, as Churchill stood up, just how tempted he had been to start his speech with ‘I told you so’. For the past seven years, Churchill and a small number of other politicians and military men had been a voice crying in the wilderness, warning the world that the threat of Nazi Germany had yet to end. His influence had seen some precautions taken, but they had proven themselves painfully inadequate when the Germans finally landed; DeRiemer felt that almost as a physical blow. If he had been able to predict the exact site of the German landing, they could have had an infantry battal
ion dug into the port, and the Home Fleet out of the harbour and protected by a cloud of RAF aircraft. If…
“Honourable Members of this House, I speak not only to you, but to the British Public,” Churchill said. He rarely spoke directly on the wireless; he had a slight stammer in his voice that was only apparent if people listened to him directly. Years of experience in public speaking had helped him suppress it until it was almost unnoticeable. “I come before you today with grave news; our country has been, for the first time in centuries, invaded by an enemy force. Yesterday evening, German forces landed in the Port of Felixstowe and commenced unloading the spearhead of a major fighting force aimed at nothing less than the conquest of our entire country.
“And yet, that is not the gravest of tidings,” he continued. “I must confirm to this house that Home Fleet was attacked last night from the air, a savage attack employing the most advance technology and anti-shipping weapons the Germans have at their disposal. It is with a heavy heart that I must confirm the loss of nine heavy capital ships and forty smaller ships. Even this setback pales in comparison to the deaths of thousands of our soldiers, sailors and airmen. The defenders of the harbour gave everything they could to stand the German Air Force off, but eventually the Germans were able to hit and seriously damage Home Fleet as a weapon of war.
“And yet, even that news is overshadowed by the German attack within the centre of London itself,” Churchill concluded. “I must confirm now, to the people of this great nation, that Prime Minister Atlee and dozens more were murdered by German commandos, who parachuted down into London. The commandos were finally defeated but in their wake they left nothing but destruction. Our country is bleeding, and yet…”
He seemed to be speaking directly to DeRiemer as he spoke.
“When Hitler showed himself for what he was, we did nothing,” he said. “When Hitler broke the bounds of international law, we did nothing. When we finally stood up to him, we found that he was too strong for us to handle any longer, and our valiant French allies went under, forced into a humiliating surrender and permanent submission to Hitler’s evil regime. We fought on, aiding those we could and salvaging what we could, but in the end, we made a critical error. We chose the easy way out.”
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