Zellner watched it. His rage had abated slightly but he was now overcome by the oppressive weight of despair. Tanner, he thought, and hurled another rock into the lake. Somehow he would have his revenge. 'I swear it.'
Chapter 22
May Day, 1940 - Wednesday - and as the dawn rose to their right, the sun gleaming over the mountains amid a cloudless sky, the signs were that summer had indeed arrived.
'Damn it,' said Tanner. 'What we want is a bit of rain and low cloud.' The speed with which winter seemed to have passed had surprised him. 'What happened to spring?' he asked Anna.
She laughed. 'We don't have one. Winter then summer. Now it's summer.'
Tanner glanced down at Chevannes' bloodied head, wrapped in an assortment of stained bandages and torn strips of lining from a German tunic. 'Stupid bugger,' he said.
Chevannes moaned.
'What happened to him, Jack?' Anna asked him, the Frenchman's head still resting in her lap. 'Was there something wrong with the rifle?'
'He put a clip of French ammunition into a German breech. The French rifles use a fractionally smaller cartridge than the German ones - but it's enough to bugger up the firing mechanism. When he fired, the bolt sprang back and hit him in the face. He should have known, but in the heat of the moment - well, he'll have a whopping scar to remind him not to make that mistake again.'
They had emerged into a deep, narrow valley, with mountains towering steeply at either side. Tanner whistled as he craned his neck to admire one of the most breathtaking stretches of scenery he had ever seen. Then, glancing at his petrol gauge, he saw the tank was almost empty.
Chevannes moaned again, louder this time.
'Jack,' said Anna, 'we need to stop. He needs attention.'
'We'll pull in at a farm. Perhaps we can find out what's happening.'
They reached a settlement called Lia, another collection of farmsteads nestling beside the river. The grey, tired fields of a week earlier had already been replaced by lush green pasture. Approaching a brightly coloured red farmhouse with clean white wooden fencing, Tanner slowed. 'This looks smarter than most.'
'You think they will have a wireless?'
'That's what I’m hoping.'
The farmer and his family had been asleep but they seemed untroubled to be roused prematurely by two trucks of fugitive troops pulling into their yard. As the men soon gathered, they had not been the first to arrive there over the past couple of days: since the fighting at
Otta had ended, troops had been streaming past, most by train, but a fair number in trucks and even on foot. And while the farmer had a radio set, he made it clear that the news announced on the wireless had told him nothing he couldn't see with his own eyes; the British were evacuating. 'You're the last,' he told Nielssen. 'You'd better hurry.'
The farmer and his wife brewed coffee and gave them bread while Anna examined Bell and Chevannes. Bell's wound was clean enough - a bullet had gone through his upper arm, but no bones had been broken. Chevannes' head, however, was a mess. His right cheekbone had been smashed, and a large gash had been torn in the side of his face, leaving the eyeball to hang loose. As Anna removed the bandages he screamed again. 'He needs pain relief,' she said.
'I don't have any,' said Tanner.
Neither did the farmer - not morphine at any rate - but he did have whisky. 'Take it,' he told Anna. 'Get him drunk.'
They made a bed of sorts for the lieutenant and laid him in the back of the first truck, then poured one of the five-gallon fuel cans into the tank. 'Change back into your own uniforms,' Tanner told his men.
When they continued on their way north, Tanner and Anna were alone in the cab. She yawned and leant her head on his shoulder. He could feel the warmth of her body against his. If they managed to reach Andalsnes, he wondered whether she would come with them to Britain. He hoped so.
'How are you feeling?' he asked.
'I don't know. Tired. I can't stop thinking about last night - getting through the town. And about Larsen. It seems so incredible.'
'Yes ... yes, it does.'
'I thought he was going to shoot you.'
'No,' said Tanner. 'He didn't have it in him. He liked us too much. In any case, it's one thing shooting someone from a distance - they're not real people, just objects - but quite another killing someone when you're face to face. It's not impersonal then. I suppose it was a bit of a gamble, but I was pretty certain he wasn't going to fire.'
She smiled at this. 'Always so rational.'
'What was he saying to Nielssen at the end?'
'Larsen? He said he'd had to do it. That they had threatened his family. And then he kept saying, "I should have turned you in at Okset, but I was trying to protect Stig." Then Nielssen said, "Some protection that was." And that's when he killed him.'
'What did he mean by that?'
'I asked Nielssen a moment ago. Apparently they had been hiding at a farm in a village called Okset, north of Elverum. It had belonged to Larsen's cousin. The Germans had turned up and searched for them. They had even been led by the same officer - Zellner?'Zellner? Bloody hell.'
'Yes, him,' Anna continued. 'Nielssen hadn't seen him, but Larsen did and recognized him when you first captured him in the fight above our farm. Anyway, although Larsen had the perfect opportunity to betray them there and then, he hadn't wanted to get his cousin into trouble and kept quiet while Zellner and his men searched the place. After the Germans had gone, they took his cousin's truck, crossed the river and headed north. But at that point Larsen realized the Germans would have seen them from the other side of the river.'
'And put two and two together,' said Tanner.
'Exactly. And since then he worried not only about the fate of his wife and daughters but also his cousin and his cousin's family.'
'Christ,' said Tanner. 'What a bloody mess.'
'Enemy aircraft!' A shout from behind.
'Damn, damn, damn!' cursed Tanner. Pasture still stretched a hundred yards or more to their right, while on their left the ground sloped down towards the river. They were hopelessly exposed. He felt Anna's hand grip his arm. 'There's no cover,' he said, 'We've got to hope for the best.' He pressed his foot on the throttle. 'Can you see them, Mac?' he shouted.
'Yes, Sarge. Four of them coming up behind, straight down the valley!'
'Can you tell what they are?'
A pause, then Bell said, 'They're bloody Messerschmitts, Sarge, 110s.'
'Christ, this is bloody suicide,' he muttered. The four planes were upon them now. Tanner looked through the side of the cab to see two lines of bullets kicking up the ground to their left. The bullets of the second aircraft raked the ground in front of them, while those of the third were way too wide. But those of the fourth cut a swathe across the road from right to left, clattering and pinging into the bonnet of the truck. Anna ducked, Tanner swerved, then righted the truck, but the
Opel was spluttering, steam hissing from the radiator.
Ahead, the four aircraft hurtled onwards down the valley until they became dots, then disappeared from view.
'Will they come back, Jack?' asked Anna.
Her hands were shaking, Tanner noticed, as she moved a strand of hair from her face. 'Doubt it,' he said. 'They would have started turning back towards us by now. They've probably gone on to attack Andalsnes.'
With the engine coughing, he rolled the truck off the road and brought it to a standstill. 'Bollocks!' he said, smacking the steering-wheel.
He jumped out of the cab and ran to the other.
'We are all right,' Nielssen called out. 'They missed us entirely.'
'That's something,' said Tanner. 'Our truck's had it.'
'Get into this one quickly,' said Nielssen.
Tanner ordered McAllister and Chambers to take the spare wheel from the ruined Opel, while he and Derigaux lifted out Chevannes.
Within ten minutes they were on their way again, Tanner and Anna now beside Nielssen in the cab. 'How much further is it?' Tanner asked
Anna. To their left, the river had developed into a narrow lake.
'About sixty kilometres,' said Anna.
'We can't stop,' said Nielssen. 'We've got to risk it.'
'Those bastards'll be back, though.' Tanner sighed heavily, tapped his fingers on his knees, then sighed again, this time even louder. 'Jesus,' he said. 'This is going to be close. Damned close.' They passed a small column of shattered and burnt-out vehicles left beside the road. Several blackened corpses lay spreadeagled to either side.
'As if we needed reminding,' said Nielssen.
A few more miles slipped by, then a few more. Tanner struggled to sit still. He wished he was driving; at least it would have given him something to do. The valley no longer seemed beautiful; rather, Tanner saw it as little more than a death-trap - a single road and a railway line, with only intermittent cover. At any moment more enemy aircraft would be upon them. So long as they had the truck they could outrun any pursuit on the ground, but if they lost this vehicle as well. . . 'This is torture,' he said at last. 'Absolute bloody torture.'
They passed a settlement called Brude. 'How far now?' he asked Anna.
'About forty kilometres, I think.'
'Aircraft!' yelled Sykes from the back. 'Bloody hell, and there're lots of them!'
Tanner groaned, and leant out of the window. They were only specks on the horizon, but he could see two distinct formations, one higher than the other. The valley had narrowed again, and with it the stretch of pasture off the road. A hundred yards ahead the road curved and beside it the forest reached the road's edge.
'Can we make the curve of the road?' A thought, but said aloud. Leaning out of the window, he saw the lower formation swooping downwards towards them.
'Now!' he said. They were close enough to the bend. 'Sir, get the truck to the side of the road, and let's get out! Out, everyone, quick, and into the trees!' He leapt from the cab, hurried round to the back and, with Sykes, grabbed Chevannes' legs, hoisted him on to his shoulder and sprinted to the trees. He had barely stepped away from the road when the first line of bullets spat a line behind him. Laying Chevannes roughly on the ground, he crouched behind a tree, aircraft roaring overhead, seemingly only just above the canopy. Bullets hurtled through the branches and along the road. A line pinged across the truck. A moment later there was a loud boom and the vehicle was engulfed in flames, the canvas cover and wooden rear crackling loudly.
It was over in moments, the six aircraft thundering onwards. A miracle: no one had been hurt, although as Tanner lifted Chevannes to his feet, the Frenchman groaned with pain.
Twenty miles, thought Tanner, give or take. They could walk it, but would the enemy catch up before they reached safety? He rubbed his eyes, rubbed his cheeks, wished he had a cigarette.
They made another stretcher, this time for Chevannes, and on they went. For a while no one spoke and all that could be heard was the tramp of boots. They had come so far.. . Tanner cursed.
'Come on, boys,' he said at length. 'Let's lift our heads. We're nearly there. We can bloody do this. Just a few hours' hard march, that's all, and we've done that plenty of times.'
'Sarge!' said Sykes, suddenly. 'Look!'
They followed his outstretched finger and there, a few hundred yards ahead, they saw the unmistakable sign of a roadblock. Hastily, Tanner brought his binoculars to his eyes.
British troops.
'They're ours, lads!' he said. 'They're bloody well ours!' And he began to run towards them.
The roadblock was manned by a small detachment of Royal Navy Marines, whose commander stepped forward as Tanner stood gasping, his hands on his knees.
Immediately he straightened and saluted. 'Sergeant Tanner, sir, of the King's Own Yorkshire Rangers, and Lieutenant Nielssen of His Majesty the King's Guard.'
'Lieutenant Lindsay,' the Marines officer replied. 'Where in God's name have you come from?'
At Lieutenant Lindsay's command post - a roughly built sangar made from stones and branches among the pines - Tanner gave a brief account of their journey from the Balberkamp, and stressed the importance of getting the professor away as quickly as possible.
Lieutenant Lindsay, a thin-faced Scotsman of about thirty, stroked his moustache thoughtfully as he listened, then said, 'We have a dilemma, though, Sergeant. Although the port is only eighteen miles up the track, it would be suicide to attempt the journey now. You know what it's like - you've suffered two close calls yourself. A mile behind us, though, there's a small village and a four- hundred-and-eighty-yard tunnel. To be honest, that tunnel's the main reason we're here. Most of our forces are already at Andalsnes, but what's left are in the tunnel. We're the last outpost here. We've been ordered to cover them should Jerry push on through.'
'How many are up there, sir?' Tanner asked. 'Rather more than one company of Green Howards, plus various other loose strands, so to speak,' Lindsay told him. 'The aim is to hold off the enemy here, then slip away tonight. The chaps in the tunnel are going by train - it's in there, ready and waiting to go - and we've got seven trucks hidden here. There are ships coming for us tonight - assuming they haven't been sunk.' He paused. 'I'm sorry, it's pretty grim, I'm afraid.'
Tanner took off his helmet and turned to Nielssen. 'What do you think, sir?'
'We should wait until this evening. If we are caught out in the open we could be in big trouble.'
Tanner nodded, then walked a few steps away.
'Sarge?' It was Sykes. 'What are you thinking?'
'I'm thinking a handful of Marines won't stop a concerted effort by the Germans.'
'We've still got a few explosives. Could always put them to good use.'
'You're right.' He turned back to Nielssen and Lindsay. 'Sir,' he said to Nielssen, 'why don't you go with the professor, Chevannes and Derigaux, and take cover in the tunnel?' Then, to Lieutenant Lindsay, he said, 'If we can help here, sir, we'll stay with you. We've got some explosive left we could use.'
Lieutenant Lindsay smiled. 'Yes, I'm sure you could, Sergeant. I'm afraid demolitions aren't really my line.'
'And if you don't mind me asking, sir, what ammo have you got left? We're almost out.'
'Enough. We've got a two-inch mortar, one Lewis gun and two Brens, plus an assortment of rifles and a fair amount of ammo for those. There is an ammunition train as well in the tunnel, though, so you can get some more if you need it.'
At this news Tanner's spirits rose. He thought quickly. 'With your permission, sir, I'd like to take one of the trucks to the tunnel, leave Lieutenant Nielssen and the professor, then load up with a few supplies.'
'Good idea,' said the captain. 'I'll get a couple of my men to help you.'
The tunnel had been blasted through the steep valley side. It was dark and narrow, the air close; there was a strong musty smell of urine and soot. Although most of the waiting troops were already on the train, a number were milling about at the tunnel's entrance. They were clearly exhausted, faces and uniforms filthy. Tanner asked a Green Howards corporal if there was an RAP.
'Aye,' he replied, pointing into the tunnel. 'On the train in the tunnel. Just follow the screams.'
They found the RAP and woke a medical orderly who was asleep on the carriage steps. 'All right,' said the medic, yawning, 'bring him in.' Tanner and Derigaux hoisted Chevannes aboard. The stench of medicines and putrid flesh was overwhelming.
'What are you bringing me?' said a doctor, his overalls covered with blood.
'A smashed cheek,' said Tanner.
'All right, put him there,' said the doctor, pointing to a space in the corridor.
At long last, thought Tanner, as he helped lay down the lieutenant.
The dank and fetid air of the tunnel was a relief after the RAP carriage. They pushed on alongside the dimly lit train until they found the adjutant of the Green Howards. After a brief explanation, the Norwegians' names had been added to his list.
'You take the train when it leaves,' Tanner told them.
'Thank you, Sergeant,' said
Nielssen, 'for everything.'
'What about you?' asked Anna.
'We're going to help the Marines,' he replied. 'We've got to make sure that that train can get you to the port.'
'But you'll be able to escape in time?'
'I hope so, yes. We'll find you at Andalsnes.'
She looked up at him, biting her lip. 'Good luck, Jack.' She kissed him, then stepped up on to the train.
He walked back slowly towards the others.
'Cheer up, Sarge,' said Sykes. 'At least you've still got us.'
'Yes, give us a kiss, Sarge,' said McAllister.
'I'll give you a bloody sore gob, if you're not careful, Mac.'
The ammunition train was further towards the tunnel entrance, and although the quartermaster in charge seemed reluctant to let them on board, when Tanner produced Lieutenant Lindsay's note of authorization, he relented. Twenty minutes later, they were back at the waiting truck, clutching a wooden crate of gelignite, another of grenades, four tins of safety fuse and another of detonators. Their pouches were stuffed with clips of .303 rounds.
'You took your bloody time,' muttered the Marines' driver. 'Come on, load up and let's get the hell out of here.'
In the back of the truck, Sykes said, 'He's a bit jumpy, isn't he?' No sooner had he said that than half a dozen Stukas appeared over the valley and dived down behind them, sirens screaming.
'That's why, Stan,' said Tanner. 'Bastards are trying to block the tunnel. Better pray they don't succeed.'
'Better pray Jerry doesn't catch up with us on the ground neither,' said McAllister.
Sykes grinned. 'If he does he'll have a hell of a headache after getting through this lot.' He delved into his bag. 'Anyway, I've got something for you.' He produced a dozen packets of cigarettes.
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