The Danger of Life

by Ken Lussey

  ‘Thanks, Edward, I’ll pass that on. I hope we’ll see her at dinner.’

  ‘I was rather surprised when she arrived earlier. Still, we managed to find a room for her. You hadn’t mentioned you were expecting someone from the Security Service to be joining you.’

  Bob paused. ‘The honest answer is that I didn’t know she was coming until she arrived. It seems my boss, and hers, felt it would be good for the two sections to work together. Do you mind if we collect my lieutenant en route to dinner, Edward? I’ve instructed my team not to go anywhere as individuals and I’d prefer him not to starve.’

  Bob realised that Monique would have taken no notice of that and for the first time felt a little concern for her.

  The officers’ mess at Achnacarry was a comfortable place, housed in the castle itself. As he looked round Bob reflected that, perhaps thanks to Lieutenant Colonel White’s approach, it was also a down-to-earth place.

  It transpired that Monique and Michael had gone to the mess together, and Bob and the lieutenant colonel joined them.

  The lieutenant colonel looked around the busy room. ‘We always tell the men who come to train here that their officers are tested every bit as hard as they are. In keeping with that principle, the same food is on offer to the trainees and their officers, and to all the permanent staff here at Achnacarry. The officers on my staff can dine here rather than in the NAAFI canteen in the grounds, but otherwise they get the same treatment as the latest group of volunteers to have marched in from the train at Spean Bridge.’

  Lieutenant Dixon attacked his food with enthusiasm. ‘Sir, all the staff I’ve seen are wearing green berets. Is this something new? I thought commandos wore the headgear used in your various home regiments.’

  ‘I’m glad you spotted that, Lieutenant,’ said White. ‘The decision has been made to issue green berets to all existing and newly trained commandos, as of this month, as it happens. There’s a sense that as the men are all volunteers, they will always remain part of their home regiments, but the idea of the green beret is to give a sense of achievement and accomplishment, and a sense of belonging. The compromise is that commandos will continue to wear the cap badge of their home regiment on their green berets.’

  ‘Your staff have a tartan backing to their cap badges, as have you, sir. Is that specific to Achnacarry?’

  ‘Yes, it is, Lieutenant. Achnacarry Castle is the traditional home of Clan Cameron, and in recognition of that, everyone based here wears a patch of Cameron of Locheil tartan behind our cap badge.’

  Bob looked around to check if they could be overheard by men on the neighbouring tables and decided they couldn’t. ‘Edward, I’ll not bore you with the details, but it’s looking like whoever killed Captain Bell last night also killed Private Lambrechts on Wednesday night. We’re also considering whether the killer might have been someone Lambrechts met in Belgium, immediately before or during the Dunkirk evacuation. We know he’s been looking for someone, but not who. How much information do you have here about the trainees and staff? Do you hold service records that would be sufficiently detailed to allow us to know if someone was serving in Belgium at that time?’

  ‘Not for the trainees, I’m afraid,’ said White. ‘They are formally on the books of their home regiments, to whom we can return them any time we want if they don’t come up to scratch. We only have the forms they filled in when they volunteered, plus the comments of their commanding officer and the officer who undertook the initial interview, in addition to notes on their performance here. On the other hand, we do know what their home regiments are, so you could get an idea of whether they might have been in Belgium at that time by knowing whether their regiments were. It wouldn’t be a simple job, though. As far as the staff here are concerned, then yes, we do hold their service records, and you would be welcome to look at them if you wish, or at the trainees’ application forms.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Bob. ‘Incidentally, you might wish to know that we have a team of navy divers coming up to Achnacarry tomorrow morning from Fort William. We’ve asked them to look at the bed of the loch around the pier, just beyond the White Bridge.’

  ‘Yes,’ said White. ‘Captain Sanderson told me that you thought Captain Bell might have been killed there.’

  ‘Do you use Loch Arkaig much, sir?’ asked Lieutenant Dixon. ‘It seemed a bit quieter than Loch Lochy, and I wondered what the boat up at the jetty was used for.’

  ‘We use the land around and beyond the loch extensively for training exercises,’ said the lieutenant colonel, ‘and some of my staff have a nice sideline in stalking deer to supplement the cuisine at Achnacarry that they think I don’t know about. But our amphibious and water-borne training concentrates almost exclusively on Loch Lochy. As for the boat you refer to, it’s used as a runabout to support exercises and by the staff for fishing when time permits, and for transporting dead deer as well, I am sure. The road along the north shore of Loch Arkaig turns into a pretty rough track part of the way along and a boat is the best way to reach the western end.’

  ‘Thanks, Edward, that’s helpful,’ said Bob. ‘It’s possible the killer was using that boat before Captain Bell was murdered.’

  There was a pause as the four of them finished their meals.

  Lieutenant Colonel White looked up. ‘Bob, I don’t suppose you’ve considered volunteering for the commandos yourself, have you?’

  Bob laughed. ‘After seeing some of what you put them through here, Edward, I don’t think that’s the life for me. Besides, I’m wearing the wrong colour uniform.’

  ‘Not necessarily. We’ve already trained RAF commandos here at Achnacarry, and more will be coming.’

  ‘Really?’ said Bob. ‘Now you come to mention it, I do recall seeing some sort of request for volunteers back in the summer. I commanded an operational training unit at the time, down in southern Scotland. What do they do?’

  ‘The aim is to have mobile units that are able to accompany front line troops when they go ashore in Europe and fight if necessary. They are called servicing commandos, and their job when the time comes will be to make captured German airfields fit for use by allied aircraft, or operate temporary airstrips constructed by the army engineers. They have to have the fitness and the full range of skills of every other commando who trains here and be able to service and operate a wide range of allied aircraft types.’

  ‘Yes, once we get back into Europe, I can see why they would be valuable,’ said Bob.

  White looked at his watch again. ‘Time for us to move. The reception we are planning to give the men landing tonight will be very hot, but standing around and watching it can be numbingly cold. We can lend you some naval duffel coats if you wish, plus Wellington boots, thick socks and gloves. That should help keep the cold at bay. Do you want to join us, Madame Dubois?’

  Monique smiled brightly at the lieutenant colonel. ‘I’m very grateful to be asked, but I’m trying to keep closely in touch with some of my people in central Scotland, so fear I will be spending at least part of the evening on the telephone.’

  Bob felt distinctly overdressed when he and Lieutenant Dixon climbed into a car with Lieutenant Colonel White outside the main entrance of Achnacarry Castle a short time later. But there was no denying that the duffel coat had the edge on his RAF raincoat when it came to keeping him warm.

  The car took them a short distance down to the gates that gave access to the castle grounds from the road alongside Loch Lochy. Bob wasn’t quite sure where they went then, but they seemed to drive for no more than a few hundred yards before they got out of the car.

  White led the way. ‘We’ve got an observation point on the bluff overlooking the bay from the south. Here we are.’ Bob followed him into a heavily sandbagged roofless structure. He was aware of the vague shapes of other men moving on the bluff around them but surprised by how quiet they were.

  White said, ‘It’s
a full moon tonight, which is why we’ve selected it for the exercise. And it looks like the weather forecast for reasonably clear skies is coming good. What that means is that the men taking part in the landing have got enough light to prepare for the exercise, get into the boats, and then position themselves well out on the loch. It also means that those of us on land will be able to see what’s going on. With live ammunition being used, it’s important that the attacking force stays within certain agreed pathways, and for that reason members of my own staff accompany them. We’ve got clear rules in place to ensure that if any of the attacking boats stray into the fields of fire of the defenders’ weapons, those weapons can cease fire before men are killed. It works much better, though, if my staff on the boats make sure that doesn’t happen.’

  Bob could dimly see groups of men boarding boats down on the shore below them, in almost complete silence, while others rowed out into the loch. It was the silence that was the most striking thing. Large numbers of men were deploying without any obvious need for spoken orders, and with very little clanking of weapons or scraping of boots. Despite all the activity in the bay below and around him, Bob could hear the breeze moving the branches of the trees a little to the south of the observation point.

  ‘How many men are involved tonight, Edward?’ asked Bob.

  ‘Around 260, plus over a dozen of their officers and some of my own staff’, said the lieutenant colonel. ‘This exercise tends to be regarded as the culmination of the Achnacarry course. We’ve got two groups of trainees, a Scots Guards detachment and a 24th Guards Brigade detachment, who are here on short courses of a fortnight or less. They leave on Monday, and tonight is their chance to take part in the night assault landing.’

  ‘What boats do they use, sir?’ asked Lieutenant Dixon.

  Lieutenant Colonel White said, ‘We have a range of craft we use for training, but tonight the men will be using collapsible assault boats. These boats offer no protection from enemy fire, unlike the landing craft we also have here which have thin armour, and they need to be rowed, but they are totally silent. We find they work best for the night assault exercise because they leave the occupants feeling totally unprotected and vulnerable. The aim of the exercise will be for the landing forces to come ashore, clear the beach, and then storm the high ground behind the road over there. At that point the heavy machine guns you will shortly see in action will change their role. Until then they play the part of defenders firing at, or rather just over, the attackers. But at that point they start simulating covering fire for the attackers, firing over their heads as they advance inland. The culmination of the exercise will be the demolition of a building we’ve erected for the purpose on the top of the hill. The attackers will then withdraw, get back into their boats, and paddle out into the loch, still under enemy fire.’

  Bob again sensed men around them but had no idea of how many. It was still very quiet, with just the occasional splash from a misplaced oar as the boats moved out towards the centre of the loch.

  ‘Any moment now,’ said White. In the moonlight, Bob could see that the dark shapes of the fleet of boats on the loch had turned and were picking up speed as they moved back towards the shore. A whistle was blown somewhere near Bob, and all hell was unleashed. A volley of flares was fired into the air and what sounded and looked like three or four heavy machine guns opened fire from points along the shore. Bob could see tracer rounds passing over the heads of the men in the boats, forming a criss-cross pattern because of the widely separated locations of the guns. He was grateful to be viewing the spectacle from his vantage point rather than from one of the boats.

  And then, close by, Bob heard the highly distinctive sound of mortars being fired. Some of these produced large flares that hung below parachutes above the invading fleet, while others were clearly firing live high explosive rounds – detonations could be heard from out on the loch, followed by columns of water being thrown high into the air around the oncoming boats. Bob realised why it was so important the boats followed their allocated paths to the shore. A live mortar round landing in one of the flimsy craft would have catastrophic consequences.

  The attackers’ boats seemed to Bob to be moving agonisingly slowly, and he could only imagine how it felt to those on the receiving end of the fire from the shore. Finally, however, they closed with the beach, at which point the intensity of opposing fire seemed to increase, and now Bob could see explosions amongst and between the incoming boats, as grenades were thrown by figures he could see down on the shore. Then the first boats grounded and men could be seen jumping out over their prows and running up the beach. Orders were being shouted to clear the beach, and for a while Bob lost sight of the attackers as they started to climb the high ground, off to his left. Then the machine guns opened fire again, this time firing up the hill over the heads of the attackers and towards the imaginary defenders beyond them.

  Suddenly Bob’s good eye was blinded by a huge flash on top of the hill, which was followed quickly by the physical concussion of the shock wave caused by the demolition of the building. Bob didn’t think he’d ever heard a louder noise and wondered if they’d hear the explosion in Fort William, the better part of 20 miles away. Perhaps they were used to this sort of thing around here, he thought.

  By the time Bob had recovered some of his lost night vision, the attackers could be seen clambering back into their boats, which they then paddled back out into the loch. Again, the mortars around the observation point came to life, and again the heavy machine guns kept up continuous fire above the heads of the men in the boats. Then a whistle was blown by someone nearby, perhaps by Lieutenant Colonel White himself, and more whistles were blown around the bay. Silence descended over Loch Lochy once more.

  Bob wondered how long he had been holding his breath. Lieutenant Dixon, standing next to him said, ‘Good God, sir, I’ve never seen or heard anything like that before.’

  ‘That’s the idea, Lieutenant,’ said White. ‘When those men out there on the loch are called upon to do that for real, they will have seen something very like it before, and many more of them will survive because of it.’

  ‘Well, thank you for the invitation, Edward,’ said Bob. ‘Now I understand why your ammunition bill is so large. Do the neighbours ever complain?’

  ‘We don’t have many,’ said the lieutenant colonel, ‘and those we have seem happy to accept what we do as a price worth paying for freedom.’

  Chapter Thirteen

  After a good breakfast, Bob and his team met in their tiny office, so he could assign tasks. Monique was not present, though Michael said he’d spoken to her at breakfast. She apparently intended to spend the morning ‘talking to people’. Bob was frustrated at what seemed her deliberate effort to undermine his authority with his team but decided there was nothing he could do about it. He’d spent a lot of time during the night thinking about their argument. It had been some years since he’d had to share accommodation with anyone he wasn’t romantically involved with and for a young and fit man, Lieutenant Dixon did snore quite badly, and loudly.

  ‘We will again split our resources,’ said Bob. ‘Sergeant Potter, I would be grateful if you could begin trying to narrow down the very large list of possible suspects by looking at the available paperwork. Private Jenkins will assist you. As I understand it, you ought to be able to lay your hands on reasonably complete service records for all personnel serving on the staff here at Achnacarry. For the trainees, I believe that all you will have available are their application forms, plus notes made by their commanding officers and interviewing officers.’

  ‘How do you want us to approach the process, sir?’ asked Potter.

  Bob sat back in his chair. ‘You might have to play it by ear a little. Ideally, I would like you to end up with two lists. One will have the names of all the men who we actually know served in Belgium, or France for that matter, in the period before Dunkirk, and the other will be the list of me
n we know did not serve in France or Belgium during that time.’

  ‘It may not be as simple as that, sir,’ said Lieutenant Dixon.

  ‘No, you are right, Lieutenant. I think that in practice, Sergeant Potter, you could end up with as many as four lists. There will be a “definitely did” list, and a “definitely didn’t” list as I’ve just outlined. Some of the “definitely didn’t” list will be men who have only joined the armed forces since that time, while others will be men who were serving elsewhere at the time. The only men on the “definitely did” list will be men whose service records or application forms specifically place them there. I think that the third list will be a “may have been” list. We could do with laying our hands on a list of the units who were fighting in France and Belgium at the time, and yes, I know it is likely to be a long one. Men who we can’t place on either of the other two lists, but who we know were serving in one of those units at the time need to go on the “may have been” list.’

  ‘You talked of four lists, sir,’ said Sergeant Potter. ‘What’s the fourth?’