by Griff Hosker
We headed away from the busy junction. Soon it would be alive with Germans. On the road adjacent to the wire I caught sight of German uniforms disgorging from trucks lit from the glow of the burning gun emplacement. Even as we ran ammunition from behind the sandbags exploded sending a pyrotechnic display into the sky. It would draw the enemy there and with every footstep we were further from danger. The real problem would come when we reached the edge of the railway lines. Just then there was an enormous explosion as the demolitions planted amongst the points exploded. I resisted the urge to turn. I knew what the effect would be. There would be the ballast and timber showering down from the skies and the metal would be twisted into fantastic shapes.
I saw a fence ahead. We had reached the edge of the junction and the railway lines. It was not a well-maintained fence and the other side was a wasteland of scrub. There had been buildings here but that had been many years earlier. Emerson and Hewitt had their wire cutters out in a moment and soon cut a gap large enough for us to pass through. I looked back across the tracks. Shells still exploded in the gun emplacement. It kept the Germans occupied.
I checked my watch. It had just gone eleven. We had to make the rendezvous by three. Four hours to make less than five miles may not seem much, except when Germans are trying to kill you. Being north of Boulogne and now northwest of the railway line we just had the main road from the north to contend with. The first half mile was relatively easy. We crossed the wasteland and then ducked through some workshops and what seemed to be fish storage buildings. It certainly smelled like it. Once we were through we had a small road ahead of us. It was bordered by small houses every hundred yard so. We could cross the road and then run over the fields. The shells behind us had stopped exploding but I could now hear the sound of vehicles. It would not be long until they investigated all the small roads. We passed the first house and ran down an overgrown lane. It led in the right direction. We emerged at another open patch of land and we hurried across that. We were making better time than I could have hoped. Once across the main road we were within sight of the rendezvous. Once more we would scramble over the low cliffs and down onto the rocks.
The road appeared clear although it was so dark and the rain still fell sporadically that visibility was poor. It also made it hard to hear well. Barker had just sprinted across the road and Emerson was in the middle when a small truck came around the bend. Emerson dived across the road but the damage was done. The truck squealed to a halt and the German next to the driver jumped out and fired blindly into the dark. I pulled my Luger and fired three bullets into his back. Hewitt fired at the driver but although he was struck he still managed to drive off . I emptied my magazine but he continued driving. Pausing only to pick up the dead German's grenades and ammunition, we joined Emerson and Barker.
"That's torn it, sir!" I looked at my watch. Two hours until the launch and we were just a mile the pickup point.
"No use crying over spilt milk, Corporal Hewitt. Let's keep to the plan. Gordy cover the rear!"
As we hurried through the rain I ran through the options left open to us. The rain would make it harder for the Germans to see us but, equally, we would find it harder to see the launch. We would have to wait until the last minute to signal them or the Germans would soon spot us. Whichever way I looked there were problems. However we were commandos and we would adapt.
We found the path leading to the rocks and the rendezvous soon after the encounter with the Germans. I saw that the path continued south to Boulogne and paralleled the road. These were really not cliffs they were just a rocky outcrop and sand dunes. I found the rocky shelf for the extraction one and a half hours before the boat was due. For once we had too much time. Had the German not got away it might not have been a problem. However the death of the German meant that they would be looking for us and they knew roughly where we would be. We took out the ropes and tied them to two spindly looking trees. We refrained from letting them fall. We crouched and we waited. The lack of noise on the road was reassuring.
Hewitt pointed out to the sea, whilst pitch black we could still see the whitecaps from the bowels of the launch in the distance. Once again the young lieutenant had come early. I was grateful for that. Gordy said, "Taxi is here sir."
I nodded, "Lower the ropes."
Just then I heard a truck in the distance as the driver ground the gears. It was coming from Boulogne. The Germans were on the way. The other three looked around as they heard it too. It was now a race between the launch and the German truck. We stood. Fred and I wrapped the ropes around our backs. "You might as well go now, Emerson. We will take a chance on the rocks."
Just then the night sky was lit by a huge flash and there was a sound of an explosion as the launch hit a mine. There was no time for hesitation or recriminations nor regret. We had to get away from here as quickly as we could. I let go of the rope. "Follow me!" I ran back down the trail towards Boulogne. I was gambling. The Germans would have seen the explosion. They would investigate. If we could pass them then we might be able to hide in the town where I hoped I might come up with another plan for us to escape. One thing was certain we would not surrender, the Hitler order guaranteed that. We kept low as we ran and remained below the level of the road.
As we approached the road where we had shot the German I saw the dimmed, dipped headlights of the two German trucks as they climbed towards us. I ran faster. We passed the corpse. I didn't see it but I knew it lay forty yards away at the road. Our trail ran parallel to the road. There was no cover here and we had to keep an eye on the faded yellow dots of light which climbed towards us. We dared not be picked out or it would be over for us. Two hundred yards down the road I yelled, "Down!" I threw myself onto the sodden, spongy grass. The two trucks ground up the incline past us and turned the bend. I peered over my shoulder and saw that they had not stopped but continued to the dead German. I jumped up. We ran at a reckless speed for the path led downhill. I needed to put as much space as I could between us and the Germans. The ground descended slowly. I could see, in the distance, a beach with fishing boats and then the harbour with two moles one on either side. It was in darkness behind us I heard the sound of machine guns. A shudder ran down my spine. Were the survivors from the launch being shot in the water?
The path had now descended towards houses by the beach. It was still the middle of the night but this was a port. Ships and boats came and went at all hours of the night. We stopped behind the back wall of a rundown, non-descript house. It was in bad need of repair and I was not certain if it was inhabited. I would have to reconnoitre.
I took off my Bergen and handed it to Gordy. I made the sign that he was in command. I headed towards the port. I knew that, although the main entrance would be guarded, sometimes locals created their own entrances and exits. I was lucky, I spied no one. I saw, forty yards away, a barrier with two German guards. They could be taken easily but they would be missed. I saw the Germans had erected a fence with barbed wire at the top around the harbour. It was new and would take some cutting. I turned down the back alleys of the houses which bordered the harbour. In more peaceful times they would have bars and restaurants there. Perhaps they still did. At each intersection I peered out. Then I saw that the fence ended. I crossed the road. It was still dark but I knew dawn could not be far away. We had to be away before dawn broke.
At the edge of the sand I saw the sign from mines. Once again I gambled. They would not risk mines close to the fence. I walked along the edge looking for the deadly indentations in the sand which would show me there were mines. I reached the sea. I saw that by wading I could get around the fence and there were fishing boats drawn up on the beach. More importantly I saw similar boats heading out to sea. There were fishermen going out to fish.
I retraced my steps. My men were just four hundred yards away as the crow flies and I reached them in less than five minutes. I grabbed my Bergen and made the sign for them to follow me. Gordy took the rear. When we reached the road we went
across in single file. I heard traffic further north. The Germans would extend their search soon enough.
Once on the beach I said, "Stick close to the fence. Mines."
We reached the water and it was icy but our luck held. No one passed us. As I waded around the fence I saw that two more boats had gone in the ten minutes I had been away. There were just three left. They were sixty yards away from us.
I heard the fishermen's voices. I waved to the sand and we all fell flat. I saw a group of fishermen approaching the boats. It looked like our last chance of escape was about to be snatched away from us. It took them just ten minutes to drag two boats towards the water and then begin to roll out. I risked raising my head. There was one boat left. The two fishing boats were heading into the dark.
"Quick, let's become fishermen." We stood. Freddie started to run. "Just walk!" In the dark I wanted us to appear to be French fishermen. They would not rush. I began speaking French.
Gordy caught on and when I stopped speaking he said, "Oui."
The boat we approached had been the one furthest from the main harbour. It was a good thirty feet from where the others had been. The northern mole was four hundred yards south of us and I saw the heavy gun machine emplacement at the end. When we reached the fishing boat I saw that it was in poor condition. I spoke quietly to the others. "Put your bags in the bottom of the boat and then drag it into the water. We have less than an hour. It will be dawn by then. I am certain those Germans will have binoculars. When we get in take off your battledress. Fred and John row. Gordy be ready to hoist the sail."
"How sir?"
"Untie it and then haul it up. I will give you a hand. Just look busy."
We got the boat in the water and I held it while they clambered aboard. The water was icy. I jumped in as they began to row. I fitted the tiller. The mechanism was rusty and it groaned. This was not a well-maintained boat and had not been at sea for some time. I saw pools of water in the bottom. They looked ominous. Glancing to my left, the Germans in the machine gun emplacement did not appear to be taking undue interest in us. I followed the course of the other boats although the nearest was a good three hundred and fifty yards from us. The sails had been raised and they were making good speed. Gordy was struggling with our sail. The poorly maintained boat actually helped us. The tiller was so rusted and stiff that I was able to leave it while I went to help Gordy. I quickly untied the sheet and began to haul on the sail. It creaked like the tiller. As a sail was raised I saw it had small holes in it. It confirmed that the boat had not been at sea for some time. "Gordy sit at the side and hold onto the sheet."
"It's a rope sir!"
"We call it a sheet. If I say go about then sit on the opposite side of the boat but keep this rope tight."
Emerson said, "What about us sir?"
"Keep rowing. This is not the best boat in the world." I returned to the tiller and took out my compass. I did not trust the one in the boat. The other fishing boats were heading south parallel to the coast. And then I remembered, mines!
"Hewitt, Emerson, ship those oars and get to the bow and keep your eyes open for mines! Give me a shout if you see them!"
I glanced to the east. Dawn was imminent. We would stick out like a sore thumb when daylight came for we would be alone and sailing in the wrong direction. We would be heading west alone into a minefield while everyone else was heading south. It would take us four or five hours at least to cross the twenty miles of the English Channel. We would not make it.
"You two get your guns and grenades ready."
They obeyed but Gordy asked, "Why sir? If a patrol boat finds us we are dead meat."
"Not necessarily. All of you take off your battled dress and put them in your Bergens. We will look like scruffy fishermen!"
"It's peeing down, sir. We'll get soaked!"
"Fred, just do it!"
I took my battledress off and rolled up my sleeves. I wanted to look like a fisherman. I lounged against the stern. First impressions were vital. If we were spotted I wanted us to look the part. It was a shame we were all dressed in khaki but that could not be helped. By the time dawn broke we were a mile or so offshore
Emerson shouted, a little too loudly, "Mines, sir! Hundreds of the buggers!"
"Keep it down Emerson, I am only here. Gordy come about!" He looked at me blankly. "Go to the other side of the boat and keep the rope tight."
"Sir, water is coming in!"
"Thought it might, Hewitt. Find something to bail the water out with. Use your Dixie if you have nothing else."
"Sir!"
I turned the tiller so that we were heading west by south "Fred, keep calling out where the mines are. Silence means you can't see any."
"Sir!"
I had no idea how far the minefields stretched save that I doubted it would reach all the way across the channel. Dawn would bring new dangers. We were alone and close to a minefield. Even though it was overcast the German binoculars from the coast would soon spot us and send a launch or even worse an E-Boat to investigate. The weather might keep the aeroplanes grounded but not the boats. The wind was from our quarter and we made better time than I could have hoped for. Poor Hewitt was sweating profusely as he bailed.
"Emerson spell Hewitt."
"Sir."
As he came aft he said," Sir, there is a fast patrol boat, a mile astern. He's coming really quickly."
"If he comes alongside let me do the talking. How far away is the minefield?"
"Hundred yards sir."
"Good. Tell me when you are almost close enough to touch them." I suddenly realised we had no nets out. There were some in the bottom of the boat. They were wet and they were oily. They did not look as though they had been used lately. But they were nets. "Barker tie off the sheet around that cleat and then drape the net over the side. Make it look as though we are preparing to fish and light a cigarette!"
"They are damp Sir!"
"It doesn't matter. A Frenchman would smoke whatever the cigarettes were like." I glanced over my shoulder. It was a harbour patrol vessel. It was armed with a couple of heavy machine guns. "How far from the mines are we?"
"Forty feet, Sir! They look bloody huge!"
"If you have to fend them off don't touch the prongs." I reached into my Bergen and took out two grenades. I placed them in my lap and jammed my Luger under my left leg. We had travelled four miles from the coast but the patrol boat could easily catch us now.
"This net is a bit smelly sir!"
I sighed. We were trying to look like fishermen. "Just keep a miserable expression on your face Gordy. You can manage that can't you?"
"Oh yes sir," he said cheerfully. Then he added, seriously, "A hundred yards more sir and they will be on us."
"Stand by, Hewitt," I pushed the tiller slightly and we headed for the black deadly prongs of the German mines.
A loudhailer sounded and a German voice told us to stop. I turned and put my hand to my ear and shrugged. I pointed to the tiller and said in French, "Thank God, the tiller has jammed and we are heading into the mines!"
I saw a hurried conference between two German officers as my words were translated.
I said quietly, "Ready with a grenade!"
The German officer said in bad French, "Be ready to take a line but beware my friend. You are in serious trouble."
I stood and nodded, "I know I can see the mines. Thank you for coming to our aid!"
The patrol boat came to within twenty feet of us. There were no mines to be seen close by us but that made the manoeuvre no less risky. As a line was thrown I raised my hands as though I would catch it. Instead I brought up my Luger and fired, first at the bridge then at the machine gunners.
Gordy shouted, "Grenade!"
I fell flat. The grenade went off. The deck was cleared and our holed sail gained some more speed from the explosion. The blast sent us into the minefield. We had no choice now. We had to get deep within it before a rescue boat was sent for the launch. I glanced over my
shoulder. The burning German boat was drifting before the wind. Suddenly there was enormous explosion as it hit a mine. Pieces of wood and debris from the launch fell from the skies.
"Mine!" Freddie's hand pointed to the right and I edged the tiller to port.
"How is the bailing?"
"We are keeping pace that is all, sir."
I noticed that the wind had veered a little and now that the patrol boat was no longer around I could risk heading west again.
"Gordy, come about!"
"Aye, aye, skipper!"
He was back to his old cheerful self. Then they were all back to bailing out the boat. The shredded sail caught the wind but we were travelling slower than I would have liked. The French coast was now a smudge on the horizon and I saw a thin dark patch which had to be England ahead of us.
"Seen any mines lately, Emerson?"
"No sir. Not for some time."
"Then help the others to bail."
By my estimate we were in the middle of the English Channel. Had there been less low cloud and rain then we would have had fighters to contend with as well. At least that was in our favour. Hewitt looked up and shaded his eyes against the drizzle. "Sir I think I can see an E- boat."
I looked over my shoulder. It was an E-boat and travelling at speed. That alone told me they would not be near the mines. Our oblique course had bought us time but he would soon be upon us in less than half an hour at the most. He would just have to navigate around the edge of the minefield. I knew that the E-Boat had all the speed it needed.
Emerson said, "Grenades sir?"
I shook my head, "Not this time. As soon as they are in range they will open fire. Those were their mates we killed." The three of them nodded. They were prepared to die but not yet resigned to their fate. So long as we breathed then there was hope.
After fifteen minutes Barker said, "He's turning sir. He must have passed the edge of the minefield."
"Give him another five minutes and he will try a ranging shot. As soon as he does, sergeant, I intend to turn. That means you will have to come about. We need to throw his aim off." The choppy sea gave us a low profile as we dropped below the tips of waves. His machine guns would have an even smaller target. It was his shells we would have to worry about. The first shell fell well astern. I risked staying on the same course. The second sent up a waterspout thirty feet from our bow. The next would hit us.
