The young man cast a worried glance at his two friends who nodded encouragingly, obviously aware of what was troubling him. The young man took a deep breath then began to speak.
“First of all, please believe me when I say that I am a patriotic Frenchman and hate to see my country overrun by the enemy.” Tony nodded but said nothing. Georges reluctantly continued. “I’m partly German.”
Tony raised his eyebrows in surprise as he turned to Charles.
“You knew this?”
“Yes Albert, I’ve always known.”
Tony thought for a moment. He knew that Charles would do nothing to endanger the group so he must feel that Georges was not a threat. Finally he met the young mans worried gaze.
“Tell me about it.”
“My grandfather was a sailor and met my grandmother in Hamburg. She is German. They married in 1890 and moved to Saint Nazaire to live. My mother was born here. My grandmother’s sister continued to live in Hamburg where she married. Her husband died in the Great War and she lived the rest of her life as a widow. My grandmother insisted that mother should learn to read and write German as well as speak it so, after the war, she was able to open a guest-house for German sailors which she ran whilst father was at sea.” He smiled. “My grandmother was a bit of a tyrant and also insisted that I should not forget my birthright. She considered it her duty to make sure that I was as fluent in German, written and spoken, as I was in French. She made me write letters to her sister in Hamburg, but when the aunt died I had no further contact with Germany and don’t know of any relatives there.”
“Is your grandmother still living?”
Georges shook his head at Tony’s question. “No, she died a few years ago. It would have broken her heart to see the two countries she loved at war with each other again.”
Tony was quiet for a moment, considering what Georges had said.
“I’m not a German spy if that’s what you are thinking. I’m…”
Tony raised a hand, halting the words in mid-flow.
“I respect your honesty Georges, and I can see that you love your country as much as the next Frenchman. There are plenty of people in France, and England, and America with German grandparents. That doesn’t mean that they are all spies and traitors. I trust the judgment of your friend who brought you here. I don’t think that you are a spy. If I did, I would have gone by now. I was merely thinking that your knowledge of the German language could be useful to the Resistance. You speak it well?
“Yes. Not only did I converse with mother and grandmother, but also with the sailors who stayed with us. I can also read German almost as well as I can French.”
“Do the Germans that you work for know that you speak their language?”
“No.”
“Then keep it that way; it could prove useful to us.”
Georges was smiling broadly.
“Thank you for your trust. I won’t let you down.”
Tony smiled at his eagerness. “I’m sure that my trust will be repaid. Now, I think it would be best if this meeting were to close, we’ve been here long enough.”
Georges frowned. "You’ve asked Alain and myself what we can do; why don’t you ask Charles what he can offer to the Resistance?"
Tony and Charles both grinned.
"Because I know what he can do." The two men looked surprised by the reply and strained to hear Tony’s whispered words. "He is already part of my group. He was part of the group that attacked the docks and the rail yard, and last year he helped to attack a submarine base and saved my life."
"Mon Dieu! Why didn’t you tell us, Charles?"
Charles smiled. "Because Albert asked me to keep it secret. You two must promise not to say anything either."
His friends nodded.
"Of course."
"On my honour."
"Good." Tony watched two German soldiers who were moving towards the cafe. "When we hold our next meeting, Charles will lead you to the place. Georges, if you have any information for me I want you to leave it here." He pushed a small map across the table to the young man as he spoke. "It’s a small farm track. If you go down the track for two hundred and fifty metres, you’ll find a rotting log. Put your message in the north end and leave a handkerchief in the bush at the end of the lane. I’ll check the bush daily. Now, memorise that then pass it back." Georges stared at the paper for a moment, nodded, then pushed it back towards Tony who slipped it into his pocket.
"You’re very careful, Albert."
"Of course. It’s all part of his training."
Alain frowned at Charles. "Training?"
"Yes. I’m an English spy.” Tony rose to his feet and, with a broad grin on his face at their incredulous expressions, he walked away.
94
Three days after Charles had introduced him to Georges and Alain, Tony took his usual afternoon walk in the direction of the farm track to see if there were any messages from Madeleine or Georges. For the first time, he noticed a handkerchief caught in the hedge. His heart quickened with excitement. Was it a message from London, or from Georges at the German H.Q.? With a quick look around to make sure that he was unobserved, Tony retrieved the handkerchief and pushed it into the pocket of his trousers. He made his way nonchalantly down the farm track, being careful to look as though he were just going for an afternoon stroll. When he reached the log, he stopped and put one foot on it. Making a pretence of tying his shoelace, he glanced up and down the farm track. There was no one about. The place was deserted, in fact he had only ever seen one other person in the vicinity during the weeks he had been checking the post-box daily. Certain now that he was alone and unobserved, Tony reached down into the end of the log and retrieved the piece of paper which had been left for him. He slipped it into his pocket, and continued his walk along the farm track.
Despite his curiosity, Tony did not stop to read the note but continued to the Boues' cottage and up to his room. He closed the windows which had been opened to allow some fresh air into the hot stuffy room, and took the piece of paper from his pocket. A broad smile spread across his face as he read.
'Because of the disruption to the trains the Germans are bringing in a convoy of fuel and arms on the 28th. It will use the road from Nantes.
There will be 20-30 trucks + escort of troops - one lorry at each end of the convoy, and motorbike outriders.
Convoy due to reach Saint Nazaire around 3.15 p.m.'
The 28th. It was already the 26th, so they would have to move quickly. Tony rushed outside and across the fields to where Jean-Paul was making hay. The older man was swiftly dispatched to the city with a message for Madeleine and Charles to meet, with the new members of the group, at the cave at 10 the following evening. While Jean-Paul was gone, Tony continued with the hay making but his mind was not on his work, instead it buzzed with plans and ideas for attacking the convoy.
“Madeleine, Jean-Paul. Meet Alain and Georges. They will be working with us from now on.”
The introductions were swift and Tony soon continued.
“Georges has provided us with information about a convoy of fuel and arms coming into the city tomorrow. The plan is that we attack it, and destroy as many of the supplies as possible.”
“Attack a convoy!”
Tony grinned. “Yes, Madeleine.”
“But that’s very different from anything we’ve ever done before. Do you think we can do it? Are there enough of us?”
Tony nodded. “Yes, we can do it. And with good planning and surprise on our side, a small group like ours can do plenty of damage.”
“I, for one, am ready for it.” Charles spoke with barely concealed excitement.
“Me too.” Alain grinned. “That is what I joined you for!”
“Good.” Tony could see that the whole group were ready for this next step, although they all looked forward to it with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. “If we’re all agreed, then let’s get down to work and get away as soon as we can. Tomorrow is goin
g to be a long and busy day for us all.”
The group met at the appointed place at one fifteen. Georges, as promised, arrived in a car which he had 'liberated' from a German officer who was billeted a quarter of a mile from his home. The group piled in, each carrying his or her own haversack containing all they needed for the attack. As they continued along the road towards Nantes, Tony went over the plan.
"Georges will drop us off, then go and hide the car. You will all take up your positions behind the hedges bordering the road, while I set the explosives and detonators in the road itself. I’ll detonate mine first when the leading troop carrier reaches it. Charles will set his off when the troop carrier behind reaches him, then I'll set off the others. The rest of you know what you have to do. Just be careful not to hit each other in the crossfire. Don't stay too long either. Inflict as much damage as you can, then get out fast."
The others nodded as the car rounded a bend. Georges indicated a narrow lane on their right.
"The car will be waiting there."
Half a mile further on they rounded another bend and stopped at Tony’s chosen ambush site. He perused it critically, then smiled. Perfect. A long straight stretch of road, bordered by wheat fields and thick hedges, which ran all the way along the road to the lane. Georges would hide the car there, offering them extensive cover for their retreat. He climbed out of the vehicle with the others close behind. As Georges turned the car round and headed off to conceal it, Tony looked at his watch.
"Assuming the convoy is on time, we have an hour. Get to your positions and check your weapons." He pointed down the road as he spoke. “Charles, down at the end on the far side of the road; pace it out as you go, leaving enough space from this point for about thirty trucks. Alain, you will be halfway between Charles and this point; Jean-Paul will be just here." He looked at the other two. "We take this side of the road. Madeleine down near Charles, Georges about opposite Alain and me here. Make sure you know where everyone else is; we don't want any of us to be shot by our own group. Now get going. And good luck."
The group dispersed as Tony knelt in the road and opened one of the haversacks at his feet. With a shovel he dug a shallow hole in the road, filled it with explosives, fixed a detonator and wire then covered it before paying out the wire behind him as he made his way backwards up the shallow bank, and into the hedge which would be his hiding place. His well-trained hands swiftly attached the wire to the plunger. He left it unarmed as he ran down the road to set a similar charge in front of Charles, hoping that it would be in the correct position to knock out the troop carrier bringing up the rear. He played out the wire once more, and attached it to the plunger Charles had brought with him.
"Right, it's all ready to go. You just raise the plunger, twist it one half turn to the right and then it’s armed. All you need to do to detonate it after that is to push down the plunger."
”Yes, Albert.”
Tony looked at the other preparations which Charles had made, and nodded approvingly. Six hand grenades were laid out in a row, and beside them four full magazines for the Sten gun which lay by Charles' side. Everything was within easy reach. Charles was fully prepared for the ambush. Tony hoped the others were equally well prepared. He had issued everyone with a Sten gun for the attack as well as a number of grenades. If everything went well, their attack would be devastating.
"Good luck."
Tony slipped back through the hedge and made his way back to his assigned position, stopping at regular intervals to lay another charge in the road. The charges were linked together on one detonating wire so that when the second plunger was pressed, they should all go off at the same time. Tony fed the wire through the hedge and laid it ready beside the plunger before checking his Sten gun and laying it down beside him. Now everything was ready.
As Tony lay in the leaf litter, his mind wandered back to his days in Scotland. He remembered being back at Arisaig, preparing to blow up one of the targets set by his trainers. Yet he had never felt so tense in the Scottish Highlands. This was the real thing, and he had two inexperienced new members in his group with him. He had done his best for them, putting each of them between two more experienced members of the group, who could protect their flanks and chivvy them along during their escape; he hoped that would be enough. Glancing down the road at the hedges bordering both sides, he was relieved to see no sign of his companions. They were well concealed, as were the charges in the road. It would take careful scrutiny to see them. They certainly would not be spotted by people in vehicles.
Tony heard a sound like low rumbling thunder in the distance, but the sky was blue and the sun was shining. Unlike thunder, the noise was continuous. The convoy was approaching. Tony peered carefully through the hedge. In the distance he saw the leading motorbike approaching, closely followed by the troop carrier and the first of a long line of supply trucks. With a twist, Tony armed the detonator and waited, watching with grim determination as the targets approached. The motorbike passed in front of him, with the troop carrier following close behind. Tony depressed the plunger as the truck passed over the explosive charge and the earth erupted beneath it. Time seemed to slow. He watched as the truck disintegrated, flinging men and bits of machine in all directions while his fingers removed the first wire from the plunger, attached the second and armed it. As he was preparing to depress the plunger, there was an explosion at the rear of the column. Charles must have set off his charge. As he depressed the plunger a second time, Tony watched six geysers of dusty earth erupt beneath some of the trucks, throwing them and their contents high into the air. Then the whole area burst into life with the sound of grenades and machine-gun fire. The motorbike at the front screeched to a halt. The rider looked back over his shoulder to see what was happening, before revving the engine and riding, head down, in the direction of Saint Nazaire. Tony let off a burst of Sten gun fire after him, but from that distance was not surprised to miss. The rider would go into the city for help. But by the time help arrived, Tony and his comrades would be long gone.
At the far end of the ambush, Charles had depressed the plunger to detonate his explosives a second too early in his eagerness and watched the cab of the truck blow apart, flinging the men into the road dazed but unhurt. With a muffled oath, he reached for the first of his hand grenades, pulled the pin and threw it into their midst. As the men were struggling to their feet the grenade exploded, flinging men, and parts of men, in all directions. Charles picked up his Sten gun and raked the remnants with bullets. Within seconds the threat from the soldiers was eliminated. Charles began to throw his grenades with casual ease at the trucks nearest to him, which were so far undamaged. Along the whole line of trucks, the members of the Resistance group were throwing grenades. The sound of explosions mingled with screams. The smell of burning rubber and flesh hung heavy in the summer air. Huge palls of smoke rose into the sky above the burning wreckage strewn across the road. A number of Germans began to return fire, leaping down from the cabs of their blazing vehicles, only to find themselves trapped between the banks of the road and their attackers. It did not matter which side of their vehicles they tried to hide, for each side was raked with fire from the Sten guns concealed in the hedges. A small handful of soldiers from the first troop carrier had taken refuge beneath the first supply truck, which was unscathed. They began to fire indiscriminately into the hedges on either side of them.
Tony studied the length of the convoy and grinned. Of the twenty or thirty trucks which had driven into their ambush only three remained undamaged, the remainder were burning fiercely or had crashed into the banks. The soldiers who had survived the initial onslaught were trying to regroup. They were now returning fire more accurately, while the motorcyclist must by now be well on his way to the city. Tony realised that it was time to withdraw. As if by telepathy, Charles also decided that it was time to go. Rising to his feet he ran along behind the hedge, stopping at intervals to fire at the few soldiers who were wandering dazedly in the road. On the
other side another Sten gun kept pace with him. Madeleine, too, was withdrawing towards Tony’s position. As she ran the smell of burning flesh reached her nostrils causing her to retch and she fired into the cabs of the burning trucks from which screams were issuing. She hated the Germans but found that she did not have the heart to leave them burning to death and hoped that her bullets would put a few of them out of their terrible agony. Georges saw her coming and rose to his feet. His supply of grenades exhausted but still with plenty of rounds left for his Sten gun, he joined Madeleine in raking the sides of the trucks. He grinned at her, a triumphant light in his eyes.
"This is great! At last I feel as though I'm doing something to free my homeland!"
"Shut up and run!"
Georges looked at the woman beside him. Her face was twisted with revulsion at the smell, yet she was calm and in control. He admired her courage and grinned at her before continuing to run towards Tony. On the far side of the road, Charles reached the position where Alain had remained concealed. Grabbing his friend by the shoulder, he pulled him to his feet.
"Come on, Alain! We need to get out of here! We’ve done a damn good job, and to stay would only endanger our lives!"
Alain nodded, released a final burst of fire into the blazing truck opposite and set off at a run.
Madeleine and Georges came up to Tony as he swung the haversack containing his detonator onto his back.
"Are you two all right?" They nodded. "Good, then let's go!"
The three young people ran swiftly along the shelter of the hedge and soon arrived breathlessly at the hidden car. They climbed aboard and Tony wiped sweat from his eyes.
"Start the car, Georges."
"What about the others?" Georges’ breath was coming in gasps.
"Don't worry, we're not leaving them. I just want the car running so we can leave as soon as they get here."
Heronfield Page 50
