‘What did they do that for?’ Papadakis said loudly. ‘Why shoot the old man?’
‘Shhh!’ Stakiserou hissed angrily. ‘Just keep your mouth shut and be ready with the ammo.’
Andreas raised his binoculars and slowly swept the crest of the rise and then stopped breathing as he saw a helmet in the grass, then another, and a shot rang out to his left as the sailor on the flank fired. At once the shot was returned from several points and bullets cracked off the weathered stones of the wall around the sailor’s position. A moment later there was a dull thump and a faint whistling in the air just before an explosion burst amongst the trees behind the Greek position.
‘They’ve got a mortar!’ the petty officer cried out to Andreas.
‘Makes no difference,’ he called back. ‘We’re in good cover and they can’t see us. They’ll just be wasting time and ammunition if they’re counting on blasting us out.’
His words sounded hollow even as he spoke them and when he heard the whistle of the next mortar bomb, Andreas pressed himself down into the ground and felt his guts clench in terror before the explosion erupted in front of the wall, to the left of his loophole. The enemy were firing bracketing shots, he realised. One too far, the next adjustment falling short, but the third would land somewhere in between, close to where they lay. He was not the only one to realise the significance of the first two bombs.
‘Keep your head down!’ Stakiserous snapped at the young crewman who was jeering at the enemy.
Petrakis regarded him with the haughty expression of one who has recently discovered his courage and falsely concluded that it made him invincible. He bit his thumb at the Germans and spat. A burst of fire rattled against the stones away to the right and so they missed the whistle of the next shot and the explosion caught them by surprise. There was a red burst just behind the wall and a deafening blast before they were showered with earth and shattered twigs and small branches. As the falling debris swiftly subsided, the petty officer shook his head. ‘That was close.’
Petrakis lay flat beside him, refusing to move until he was given a booted prod and then he jerked into life and looked up at his comrades with a terrified expression.
‘Still alive then?’ Stakiserou grinned.
The next shot landed further along the wall, the blast blowing a small gap in the stonework. Those that followed ranged down the edge of the olive trees as the Germans tried to unsettle the nerves of their opponents while they prepared to attack. Andreas and the others readied themselves, staring hard towards the grass and rock outcrops lining the rise in front of them. There was one more explosion before the defenders heard a harsh shout. At once a party of four men jumped up and raced a short distance to the right of the German line, close to the base of the cliff, weaving as they went to put off the Greeks’ aim. Andreas swung his rifle round but before he drew a bead on the rearmost man they dropped to the ground. An instant later another party scrambled up on the other flank and repeated the manoeuvre.
‘We’ll concentrate our fire on them.’ Andreas pointed. ‘The other machine gun can cover the cliff.’
Two more parties rushed forward across the ground in front of the wall and a burst of fire from the second Hotchkiss brought down one of the enemy, doubling the soldier up before he rolled to a stop and lay writhing. Each time some of the Germans moved, their comrades provided covering fire, aiming for the area where they had spotted muzzle flashes. Their leader knew his craft and his men were well-trained and confident, Andreas realised. He kept his attention focused on their right and then he saw the movement he had been waiting for. The Germans rose and began to run forward again. Andreas tracked one and fired, an instant before Stakiserou opened up and the ground around the Germans erupted in spouts of spoil and shattered stone. Two were cut down, spinning under the impact of the bullets, while a third was struck in the leg and threw himself to the ground. The last man sprinted on a short distance, chased by a trail of bullets as the machine gun caught up with him and struck him. His arms flailed as his rifle spun through the air and then he fell.
‘Hah!’ the petty officer grinned. ‘Got ’em all!’
His celebration was cut short by a spray of bullets smashing into the stones of the wall and the branches overhead. The enemy had brought one of their own machine guns forward, Andreas realised, and were laying down suppressing fire while their comrades made a succession of short dashes towards the Greek positions. He risked a quick glance through his loophole and saw the shiver of the grass that gave away the enemy machine-gun team. He took aim with his rifle and loosed the rest of his magazine in their direction and the enemy ceased firing. Long enough for Andreas to look over the ground and assess the situation.
The Germans had approached to within fifty metres of the wall and would soon be close enough to hurl grenades, before launching their final assault. It was almost time for Andreas to order his men to retreat. First they would shoot up the enemy positions and then make a withdrawal before the Germans reacted.
‘Mortar!’ Stakiserou yelled and Andreas flattened as he heard another whistle. The round struck in front of the wall, but instead of exploding, it detonated with a soft crump and smoke swirled around the impact point and began to disperse. Andreas saw the danger at once. The enemy was laying down a smokescreen to mask their attack. Andreas rolled on to his side, wrenched his flare pistol out of the haversack and opened the breach. He rammed a cartridge in, snapped the pistol shut and aimed into the air and fired. The flare whizzed into the sky and burst in a bright white glare.
‘Let’s go!’ Andreas ordered his companions. ‘Back to the truck, now! I’ll cover you.’
He remained at his loophole as Stakiserou and Papadakis took the Hotchkiss off its tripod and fell back through the trees. Andreas saw further movement to his left as the other sailors withdrew, then he turned back to the enemy as another smoke round landed and added to the dense white veil spreading in front of the wall. He heard a voice call out to his left, not far off, and turned to fire twice in that direction, and then again to the right, and emptied the rest of the magazine to the flank. He reloaded and listened again. There were more voices and then he saw a figure approaching through the smoke. Snatching his rifle round, Andreas took aim and fired at once and was gratified by the sight of the man collapsing. He fired again in that direction and off to the left before scrambling to his feet and racing after his men, crouching low as he flitted beneath the olive trees.
There was a short pause before he heard the Germans shouting. The enemy’s machine gun rattled out again and Andreas heard the cracking and splintering of wood behind and to his right, followed by the explosions of hand grenades. He saw the road ahead of him through the trees and ran on, out into the open. The truck was to his right and the petty officer and Papadakis were climbing on to the back while the rifleman jumped into the cab and made to start the engine. Andreas raced towards them, looking for any sign of the others emerging from the trees.
‘Set up the Hotchkiss!’ he shouted.
Stakiserou nodded and bent to his work over the bed of the truck while his assistant opened the last ammunition tin and readied the belt. Andreas paused to reload his rifle, then clambered up beside them and raised his weapon. He heard an outburst of shots from the direction of the trees.
‘Get ready!’
They waited, poised to spray the olive trees at the first sign of the enemy. There were more shots and then German voices calling out to each other. The lorry’s engine coughed into life and the driver revved the engine in neutral to warm it up.
‘There!’ Papadakis pointed quickly.
The others looked and saw the figure stumbling out of the shadows beneath the trees. The late afternoon sun slanted through the canopy and trunks and dappled his sailor’s uniform with splashes of orange light. He had been shot in the shoulder and blood soaked his shirt beneath the hand he clasped to the wound. He saw the truck and was turning towards it when Andreas saw more figures rushing out of the gloom.
‘Stakiserou! They’re coming. Shoot ’em!’
The petty officer swung the machine-gun barrel and fired a burst into the trees. The Germans scattered as they dived for cover. Andreas beckoned frantically to the injured sailor and the latter ran towards them, an instant before bullets struck the road where he had been standing. The bed of the lorry lurched under Andreas’s boots and he turned and banged his fist on the driver’s cab.
‘Wait for my order! Wait, damn you!’
The vehicle stopped jarringly and Andreas’s side struck the back of the cab painfully. Hissing a curse he turned back as the wounded sailor reached the truck and tried to heave himself up into the back, grimacing with pain as the machine gun blasted out above his head. Andreas hurriedly set his rifle down and pulled the man up and in, his ears ringing with the clatter of the Hotchkiss. Even though the Germans had gone to ground they were now firing back in earnest and the wooden rail on the side of the truck splintered as a Mauser round tore through it.
‘Go!’ Andreas shouted at the driver. ‘GO!’
Slamming the vehicle into first gear, the driver let the clutch up too quickly and it leaped forward, threatening to stall before he caught it with the clutch, adjusted the accelerator and the lorry shuddered down the track away from the olive trees. Through the rosy-hued dust thrown up in its wake, Andreas saw the flashes of gunfire and the field-grey uniforms of the soldiers emerging from the trees. Then they reached the junction of the track leading down to Sivota and the truck slowed for the turning. Stakiserou and Papadakis had to stop firing to hold on to the side of the vehicle to keep their footing while Andreas did his best to steady the wounded sailor with his spare hand. The gears ground as the driver wrenched the steering wheel towards the head of the track and Andreas felt the sailor jerk in his grip as a warm spray splattered his cheek. He glanced down and saw a gaping red hole in the side of the man’s head. His eyes stared up, wide in death, and his jaw hung open.
‘Shit.’ Andreas gritted his teeth bitterly and let go of the man. The truck bounced along the track that zigzagged down towards the bay, and out of sight of the Germans. But the enemy had smelled blood and would continue the pursuit, Andreas knew. They would not be far behind the truck, determined to wipe out the handful of Greeks who had inflicted such heavy losses amongst their comrades. Unlike the truck, they were not obliged to use the track and could descend directly down the slope at the end of the bay. Sunlight flickered through the trees as the driver took the pitted and rutted surface as fast as he dared while his passengers held on tightly.
Then there was a gap in the trees and Andreas snatched a brief glimpse of the bay and saw the exhaust smoke trailing up from the submarine’s stern as the crewmen hurried aboard and climbed down through the deck hatches. Flames glittered at the base of the pyre of abandoned equipment and supplies. Andreas saw the captain standing on the conning tower beckoning to his men. The anti-aircraft gun swung towards the sound of the earlier shooting and the crew stood ready for action. Then the trees blocked the view again. Two more turns, Andreas recalled as he held on. The truck swerved into the penultimate straight for another hundred metres, turned again and then the trees opened out either side of the track. The track divided, the right branch heading towards the village while the left made for the jetty where the Papanikolis was ready to depart. Two men stood at the bows, another two at the stern, ready to slip the moorings, and the gangway was still in place.
The truck rattled into the open and steered directly for the jetty. Andreas and the others shared a nervous smile of relief at their escape. Then there was a shrill clatter and a line of dark holes stitched across the roof of the cab. The lorry began to turn as the stricken driver’s foot came off the accelerator, and as it slowed it struck a pothole and turned on to its side, throwing its passengers and the machine gun out across the dirt and shingle. Andreas fell hard on his shoulder and felt the snap of a bone. He groaned as he sat up in agony. The engine was still running and a wheel spun. The machine gun lay close by, still attached to its stand and half on top of Papadakis who lay sprawled in a daze. The driver was dead, the body trapped beneath the truck, leaving his torso and bloodied head exposed. The petty officer was already on his feet, seeming unhurt. He glanced round the end of the lorry and swore.
‘Holy God, those fascist bastards are quick off the mark!’
Andreas struggled up, gritting his teeth at the sharp pain of his broken collar bone. Up the slope he could see the enemy there. Some, fitter and more nimble than their comrades, had run directly down the slope and were only a hundred metres away from the truck.
Stakiserou reacted swiftly, straining as he picked up the Hotchkiss and set it up at the end of the truck. Patrakas snatched the last box of ammunition and staggered to his side. The petty officer nodded his thanks and fed the belt into the breach before pushing the younger man away.
‘Get the lieutenant back to the boat!’
Andreas looked at him and shook his head. ‘I’m injured. You and Papadakis go. I’ll stay.’
Stakiserou ignored him as he crouched behind the weapon and took aim. ‘Sorry, sir. I can’t hear you.’ He cocked the weapon and fired a quick burst before the officer could react. Then he glanced over his shoulder at Papadakis. ‘What are you waiting for? Go! Get him out of here!’
The sailor nodded, thrusting Andreas towards the waiting submarine as the petty officer fired again. The deeper crack of the Oerlikon joined in, shooting its explosive shells in amongst the trees. Andreas thought about protesting but was steered away by the young sailor who put an arm round his back and pushed him on. Bullets zipped past as they reached the jetty and the crewmen on the mooring lines crouched low, waiting for the order to cast off. Some of the German rounds glanced off the hull with a shrill crash. Andreas could hear the short staccato bursts of the Hotchkiss and smelt the acrid stink of diesel fumes as he ran. Then they were at the end of the gangway and Papadakis helped him across on to the deck of the Papanikolis.
‘Get him below!’
Andreas glanced up and saw the captain’s face looking down over the coaming of the conning tower. Then Iatridis looked up and cupped his hands to his mouth.
‘Cast off for’rd! Cast off aft!’
‘Wait!’ Andreas protested. ‘Stakiserou is coming!’
Iatridis looked down again with a pained expression and shook his head. The submarine’s starboard engine rumbled a deeper note and the gangway splashed into the water as the vessel got under way. Andreas looked back towards the truck and saw that the Hotchkiss was no longer firing. The petty officer’s body lay slumped over the weapon. Some distance beyond him the Germans scattered and scrambled for cover as the Oerlikon blasted them again. A handful of shots flew after the Papanikolis as she slowly slipped out from under the camouflage netting and swung gently towards the entrance of the bay and the open sea beyond.
Chapter Sixteen
Norwich, 2014
Dusk was settling over the city and the room felt gloomy and cold as Eleni folded her spotted bony hands in her lap.
‘That was how it was when the Germans invaded and Andreas fought them for the first time. He told me about it later, when we met again. How he had first gone to war . . . He remained there for the rest of his life. Poor Andreas, he never saw the world at peace ever again.’ She closed her eyes for a moment and pressed her lined lips together before she blinked and forced a slight smile.
‘I found this while you were making a drink earlier.’ She reached down to her cardigan pocket and brought out a stained black and white photo with a decoratively cut edge and placed it on the table between them. ‘It was with the loose photos in my drawer. It was amongst Andreas’s effects when the British finally gave them to me years after the war. Such a little box to carry the mementoes of a lifetime . . . Anyway, there, see what a handsome man he was.’
Anna reached for the photo. She saw a man in an army uniform with a beret, standing smiling, arms clasped behind his back. Some dis
tance behind him stood the pyramids of Giza. Anna recognised his features clearly enough. Not so different from the picture with Eleni and Peter, but his face had filled out and his build was more solid. It was true that he was handsome, but in that stiff, old-fashioned way that Anna could not quite take seriously.
‘I thought he was in the navy.’
‘He was. That was taken several months after his submarine escaped to Egypt, when he was working for the British.’
‘Why Egypt?’
Eleni thought a moment. ‘Where else was there to go? The enemy controlled most of the Mediterranean. Egypt was the closest territory still controlled by our allies. Besides, that was where King Georgios and what was left of his government had fled when Greece was invaded. While we starved, they lived in comfort in Cairo. Meanwhile, most of our people who had escaped the occupation went to Egypt in the hope that they would find a way to continue the struggle. As for Andreas, there was little for him to do when he came out of hospital, even though he was desperate to fight the fascists. Commander Iatridis wanted to take the Papanikolis out to attack enemy shipping but the Greek government in exile refused to risk the few warships they had saved from the Nazis. Eventually they got sick of his demands and replaced Iatridis with a captain more willing to obey their will. Meanwhile Andreas had been chosen for other duties. About the time this photo was taken.’
‘Oh?’ Anna leaned forward. ‘What was that then?’
Eleni shook her head. ‘I’ll tell you in the morning, child.’
Anna watched her grandmother in silence, wondering at the account she had just been given. Eleni had seemed old all her life, always the same irascible and shrewd lady who moved with a brittle elegance. But now it was as if Anna was seeing her afresh, and as her grandmother had spoken it was almost as if she could see the young woman Eleni had once been. So full of life, and in love for the first time, only to have to endure the invasion of her peaceful island home by the Nazis.
Hearts of Stone Page 18
