by Carl Leckey
All that remains are dried herbs hanging over a large black cooking stove. “This will do.” Billy enthuses. “I’ll go and get the Corporal. You stay here and have a look around see if there is anything to eat.” As he walks towards the door he added “Eh! Why don’t you see if you can find some wood to get the stove going? I could do with a hot meal and bloody good cup of tea.” I start mooching about, still feeling uneasy about intruding into someone else’s home without permission. I find a closed door located alongside the stove, although it begins to open, it springs shut again much to my surprise. I pull again, the same thing happens. I have just about given up as Billy returns with the Corporal. “I think there might be wood in here.” I explain, “but the bloody door keeps sticking when I pull on it.”
“Here,” the Corporal says, “give me a go.” He is much bigger and stronger than I. He puts his full weight on the door, strains hard, until suddenly it bursts open. Hanging onto the other side is a man in strange uniform, he falls full length onto the floor at the Corporal’s feet. I leap back in alarm. Billy, who religiously carries his rifle everywhere in case he has the chance to have a shot at the enemy, swings his rifle up, cocks it and aims at the unfortunate individual. The terrified man scrambles to his knees and throws up his arms in the universal act of surrender. “Komerad. Komerad.” He pleads, tears flowing down his face. “Bloody Hell! We’ve only captured a bloody Hun” the Corporal exclaims, “how the buggery did he get so far behind our lines without getting caught?” As soon as the Corporal spoke the prisoners attitude changed. “Are you Tommy’s?” He enquires in perfect English. We are taken aback. For the first time since I have known him, Billy is at a loss for words. “Course we’re bloody Tommy’s,” the Corporal replies. “Who the bloody Hell would be around here except us and the Frog civvies?” “Thank God.” The prisoner answers, evident relief in his voice. When he is certain we are British he relaxes and begins lowering his hands. “I thought for a moment you were my side looking for me. Then maybe you were the French Army that had advanced lately. I know the French and Germans would have shot me out of hand. Let me introduce myself.” Billy interrupts him harshly. “Hands hock Fritz.” Billy shoved him with his rifle muzzle. The Corporal rebukes Billy.
“Take it easy lad, give the chap a chance.” “Don’t trust him Corp.” Billy replies angrily, “My uncle told me some of his lads surrendered over here and the Huns shot em. How do we know he’s not a bloody spy? He speaks too good English for an ordinary soldier, don’t you think?”
I intercede as things are getting a bit out of hand. Even though the Corporal is a good man Billy is treading on dangerous ground arguing with the NCO especially in front of the enemy? The expression on the Germans face has changed from one of relief to anxiety. “Why don’t we search him Corp?” I suggest. “That will tell us about him. I mean, he doesn’t seem to be armed?”
The Corporal informs us. “I’ve taken prisoners before and on the whole they have been decent enough chaps when they are away from the H’officers and,” He pauses and smiles. “We must not forget their NCO’s. Sit here Fritz.” he indicates a chair. “Billy keep your rifle on him, I’ll do the search. You go and search that cupboard thing he hid in and fetch the other lads.” He orders me. The tense atmosphere relaxes as the Corporal found nothing but his wallet stuffed with personnel letters, his Army pay book, and family photos. I search what turns out to be a woodshed, the only thing I discover is his great coat and pack, no weapons of any description come to light, I go for the other two members of the troop. The Corporal decides we should stay the night and give the other ambulance a chance to catch up. “They most probably broke down, I mean that bloody rain would kill most engines we have been lucky with ours” He commends our driver on keeping our vehicle rolling. The Corporal arranges a lookout roster and I set about lighting the cooking stove and sorting out what rations we have.
The rest of the troop thoroughly search the entire house and find nothing but abandoned household goods. The prisoner, whose name turns out to be Oscar, begins talking to the Corporal. He explains he has deserted the Army and has never taken part in the fighting. His job in the Army has been in education, located in camps far to the rear of the front line. Recently the German high command decided that all German soldiers, regardless of occupation, have to spend some time at the front. That’s when Oscar decided to desert, he did not believe in killing. He explains the war is totally against his entire Christian upbringing. In his civilian occupation he had been a schoolteacher, he taught languages at the local school in this village. Before the war he had happily lodged in this very farmhouse, Oscar had been treated as one of the family by the French and has great affection for them especially the eldest daughter whom he intends to marry. Then the war began and he had to return to Germany for Army service. When he deserted he knew he couldn’t go back to Germany and made his way to the farm where he knew a warm welcome awaited him. On his arrival he found the whole place abandoned. Oscar worried about the family and had hidden in the house for five days hoping they would return. Surviving on eggs and potatoes supplemented with turnips the farmer had laid aside for cattle food. He offered to show us the best place to look for eggs and the location of the turnip and spud cache. In answer to the Corporal’s questions, he assures him regarding other visitors to the farm. “No. No one has been here in all five days until you Tommie’s arrived.” He then poses a very strange question to the Corporal.
“You don’t have to answer me, I understand if you don’t, and won’t pursue the matter. But do you know exactly where you are?”
The Corporal looks at Toot for a response. “Yes we know exactly where we are, don’t we driver?” He throws the question at the driver who appears exceedingly uncomfortable. “Why do you ask such a question?”
“Oh!” Replies Oscar, “I suppose you are on some kind of secret mission so far behind German lines.” The background chatter of the troop ceases abruptly as they absorb the implication of Oscars statement.
Chapter three
Going into battle
Billy breaks the stunned silence. “What are you on about Fritz?”
Billy refuses to call the German by his name as he still harbours suspicion. “A big German push took place in the last day or so in that terrific rain storm, I saw thousands of them passing by. That was mostly at night, although there wasn’t much firing. I think your side must have retreated without a fight, how do the high command describe it, I suppose it’s the same in all armies? Oh! I know what it’s called, yes, a tactical withdrawal, that’s it.” This last remark infuriates Billy. He grabs his rifle and aims it at the cowering German.
“Shut your filthy mouth you lying bastard, the British Army never retreats or gives up, not like you, you cowardly swine.”
The Corporal leaps forward and takes the rifle away from Billy. He speaks in a very firm manner to him.
“Look lad, I know you are all keyed up and tired but I’ll tell you when to use your weapons, understand?”
Billy slumps down onto a chair. “Well Corp, did you hear what the sod said? He really pissed me off when he said that about our Army, we don’t retreat do we Corp? What does he think we are a bunch of women?”
The Corporal orders the German in a quiet assured manner. “Oscar, do us a favour will you? Go in your hidey hole while I have a chat with the lads.” The German obeys immediately, evident relief at escaping a tense situation shows on his face as he flees into the cupboard. When the door has closed the Corporal addresses us all, but we can see it is for the benefit of Billy.
“Now let’s calm down lads.” As he speaks the Corporal places his hand on Billy’s shoulder. “If he’s right, we are in deep enough shit without shooting prisoners. I think old Oscar is a genuine bloke and by telling us about the shift in positions he might have saved our lives, understand? We need to concentrate our energies on getting back to our own lines, let’s get a hot meal into us and a night’s sleep. If Oscar is right the other ambulance isn’t
going to turn up, in the morning we will do a spot of observation. There has to be reinforcements and ammunition going up to the front so we can spot whose Army it is. Listen? There is still plenty of gunfire in the distance. I guess we are not far from the action by the sound of it. You lad take the prisoner with you and find that food he’s on about.”
“What if he escapes Corp?” I ask, worried about the responsibility of guarding the prisoner on my own. “I don’t think he will make a run for it, where will he go? Anyway we’ll keep his pack and wallet here. He won’t go without them I’m sure. If he does we’ll have to face that, if and when it happens.” I release Oscar from the hidey-hole and explain what we have to do, he appears delighted to help. While we search for eggs he asks me about my life and where I live in England. I see no harm in telling him. Oscar explains he has visited and also lived in England on a couple of occasions on language courses. Out of the blue he enquires.
“How old are you Lad?” His direct question takes me aback, something so personal I want to keep secret. I waffle and tell him I am eighteen. He shakes his head. “I have been teaching for a long time and I am pretty good at guessing peoples ages, especially youngsters. I reckon you are just about sixteen. Nevertheless,” He smiles. “It looks like I’m wrong about you?” For some unexplainable reason I feel the need to confess my real age to him a virtual stranger and enemy to boot. Again he smiles then seriously he asks me. “Do the English hate us so much they are sending their children to fight us?” Again I feel the need to explain it isn’t the usual practice and I have lied about my age to get into the Army.
“Do you hate us so much then, I know your friend Billy does?”
I blush and attempt to explain. “Really it is nothing to do with the Germans in all my life until now I have never met one. I joined the Army to get away from a humdrum job and to find adventure. As for Billy, one of his relatives had a bad experience over here and he finds it hard to forgive.”
Oscar replied. “That makes me feel better lad. You don’t know how much I regret this horrible war. I believe an Angel must have guided you and your kind Corporal to me.”
“It is funny you should mention Angels.” I finger the St Christopher around my neck as I remember the veteran who had befriended me at the holding camp. I can’t help wondering where he is and if he is still surviving. I continue. “I met an old soldier in a camp a few days ago. He told me that Angels had appeared on the battlefield at the height of the fighting at a place called er, I think it is called Mons.”
Oscar stops rummaging for eggs in the straw; he stares at me with a strange expression on his face. “Did you say an Angel lad?”
“‘Yes.” I reply, “at a place named Mons.” With a sense of wonderment in his voice Oscar murmurs more or less to himself.
“Well, now I believe there is a Supreme Being watching this lunacy as we destroy ourselves on his earth. I have heard the same stories from my countrymen who fought against your army in that same battle. The greatest wish in my life is to witness a miracle such as that. God moves in a mysterious way his wonders to perform.”
I glance at him dubiously, having heard the same phrases used in the orphanage to justify some of the more horrible things that happened to us orphans. I have no time for the religious crap. Any shred of so called Christianity has long since been beaten out of me by two faced hypocrites. I reveal how I feel about the church and the reasons why I have no time for organised religion. Strange thing though, I wear the St Christopher without any qualms, Oscar noticed me still fingering the medal and smiled.
“You are a good lad, I hope when this senseless war is over we are able be friends.” He also imparts some other interesting information, that there are extensive cellars under the farmhouse or at least in the close proximity. The farmer used them for the storage of his wine. They allegedly date back to Roman times when a villa stood on the site. Oscar had not actually seen them himself, and had only learned of the presence of these cellars from the farmer’s daughter. He follows this interesting statement by revealing he intends to marry the girl when the war ends. Being a teacher, Oscar had an interest in the history of the region. When he inquired about the cellars the farmer refused to share the secret of them with him, he hinted he would divulge the secret when Oscar became part of the family. Although he had searched the area around the house he had no idea where the entrance to these underground chambers where. I must admit, I am not that interested in this information, but free wine for my mates and me would be attractive. On our way back to the farmhouse he revealed more details of his life and future plans when peace arrived. I find myself really liking the fellow despite him being an enemy although I find I am wary of his religious trend.
It appears the lads have delegated me cook in my absence. I boil up a heap of potatoes and turnips in a milking bucket along with a dozen eggs, added a couple of tins of bully beef and beans, and we have a splendid banquet our first hot meal for ages.
Duties are allotted by the Corporal. Oscar is locked in the hidey-hole for the night.
Billy draws the first stint I am designated as second to stand watch. A pea soup fog has dropped in at nightfall encompassing the farm in a thick blanket while he was on duty. He warns me as I relieve him that it is impossible to see more than ten feet.
I inquire in a whisper. “Have you told the Corp?” Thoughtfully he answers. “No, let the poor bugger sleep, there is nothing happening out there, he’s knackered looking after us dozy sod’s. I reckon this fog is the best thing that could happen for us.”
I climb the stairs to the attic, the place designated as the best lookout post by the Corporal. I have orders to turn out the troop at first light.
Boy! Is it lonely up here; to be honest I’m terrified. This is the first guard duty I have undertaken on my own, the responsibility of men’s lives depending on my vigilance presses down on me. My main worry when I am on night guard is keeping awake, I love my bed and I’m already tired out by the trip so far. I have heard stories of soldiers being shot for falling asleep on duty, there is no way this is going to happen to me. I twitch with fear at every little sound and peer into the thick fog until my eyes are aching. After about an hour I lean out of the window hoping to hear things better. I believe I am able to identify noises somewhere in the fog, I’m sure I hear an English voice cursing, followed by a horse coughing and the jingle of harness, I definitely identify the smell of cigarettes.
Should I rouse the Corporal? What if I make a fool of myself and there is nothing out there. I consider this for a while before rejecting the idea, putting everything down to my over stretched imagination. Thank God for dawn, I thankfully go down stairs to wake the troop. Before rousing them I decide to let Oscar out of his hidey-hole first to light the fire for breakfast. When I open the door, shock, horror the space is empty, a hatch on the back wall swings open.
I didn’t see it when I searched the place yesterday evidently the firewood have been heaped against the blooming thing. Panic washes over me, for a moment I am paralysed with fear, will I be held responsible for his escape? Is Oscar a spy after all as Billy implied? I recover my nerve and approach the still sleeping Corporal. Reluctantly my hand hovers over his shoulder ready to shake him awake when I hear a soft tap on the outside door, what a dilemma I find myself in. I hesitate from waking the Corporal. I cock my rifle even though we haven’t been issued with live ammo. The humour of this strikes me. I snigger nervously as I approach the door.
“Who goes there?” I issue the usual military challenge in a whisper.
“It’s me Oscar, let me in please?” Gratefully I inch the door open, the German steps in, hardly recognisable, fully uniformed muffled in his great coat and a backpack strapped to his back.
“I must see the Corporal alone at once.” He quietly closes the door, my hands trembles with relief as I request nervously.
“Do me a favour will you? Take your pack and great coat off and put them in the cupboard Oscar. Otherwise I’m really going t
o be in the shit if they find you have been outside.”
“There’s no time for that lad, I’m sure everything will be ok when I’ve had a word with your NCO.” He quietly goes over to where the Corporal sleeps and shakes him. Immediately the Corporal awakes his eyes take in the situation, with me covering the German with my rifle. Oscar puts his finger to his lips requesting silence. The Corporal understands the gesture but I can see Oscar’s dress and my pose are perplexing him. Oscar points to the stairs and they both make their way up to the attic, closely followed by me.
When we are out of earshot of the lads downstairs Oscar explains.
“I heard noises outside during the night. I’m ashamed to say I thought it was my own Army coming. I decided to escape through a loading hatch in the outside wall. I made my way across fields keeping clear of the road. The fog is still as thick as ever out there. I heard voices close to me, they were German soldiers as I suspected, but they were not advancing they were moving the wrong way. I lay in a ditch for ages until the last of them passed by, I must admit I became lost and wandered around for a few hours. Eventually I recognised a landmark that I knew would lead me back here. Then a strange thing happened, would you believe it? I heard English voices whispering. Your Army crept through the fog with the horse’s hooves and harness muffled. My friend, I believe when you go outside you will find yourself surrounded by your countrymen. I didn’t know what to do at first but because of your kindness towards me I had to return and report the matter to you. My life is in your hands my friend.”
