Authors: Paul Dowswell
Will’s mood abruptly changed. He felt a terrible gnawing anxiety. Jim should have rejoined his unit by now.
‘What about Ogden? Hosking?’
The man shook his head. ‘Sorry, lad. No sight of any of them.’
Will returned to Eddie and Axel. He remembered the medical orderly’s instructions. Keep the wounded man talking. That would keep his mind off Jim.
A young Belgian woman wandered by to peer at the three of them. Eddie started rambling. ‘Looks like my girl Janie Holland,’ he told Will. ‘Same curly brown hair. Not as pretty though.’ He laughed. ‘Left me for a sailor. From what I heard, he’s twiddling his thumbs on a destroyer somewhere south of Iceland. Nice work if you can get it. Nearest they’ve come to sinking a submarine is spotting a whale!’ Eddie let out a long sigh. ‘Maybe I should have joined the navy.’
Will heard a familiar voice. It was Lieutenant Richardson. ‘Franklin. How did you end up here?’ Will explained that they had been ambushed and scattered. ‘Have you seen Sergeant Franklin?’ he asked eagerly. ‘Is he back with the platoon?’
‘No sign, nor any of the others on the forest patrol,’ said Richardson. ‘Still,
nil desperandum
. I’m sure they’ll be joining us soon. We’re mustering here for a pep talk by the colonel. But I want you to stay here with this injured man. And keep an eye on this Hun lad too. When the ambulance chaps get here, you can take your prisoner to the rear.’
Will nodded. Axel was staring into the distance and looked no threat to anyone. Some colour was coming back to Eddie’s cheeks. He would be OK if an ambulance arrived soon. Will racked his brains for things to say, to keep Eddie talking, but it was difficult to think when he didn’t know whether his brother was dead or alive.
12.00 noon
The town-hall clock struck out its slow chimes. Axel sat at the side of the square with Will and Eddie. They seemed to have forgotten about him for the moment.
Axel no longer noticed the cold of this chilly November morning. He looked at the leaden sky and the square that was filling up with English soldiers – more King’s Own, by the look of their badges – and he felt indifferent to everything. Maybe it was the shock of being nearly blown up and lynched on his first day in combat, or of seeing his comrades killed before his eyes. He felt a great weight of exhaustion, as heavy as the grey sky, pushing down on him. He rested his body against a stone column on the front of the town hall and for a few moments he slept.
He awoke with a start, dreaming about explosions and the horrible sight of that dead soldier in the crater. But he was still alive. In an instant a spring of joy seeped into his soul.
The soldiers in the square seemed strangely muted for a victorious army, almost dazed. While everyone was ignoring him, Axel wondered if he could slip away now, back to his own unit. He supposed they would be somewhere to the east.
But he felt safe where he was, motionless in the corner of the square with Eddie and Will. He was like a sparrow in the forest, perched on a branch beneath the canopy, hidden from circling hawks unless he broke cover into the open sky.
On the far side of the square the soldiers were forming themselves into ranks before the railway station. There were hundreds of them. A sergeant called out and they fell silent. A senior officer, judging by the smartness of his uniform, stood on the steps leading into the station and began to address them all. Axel looked on him with scorn. Here was a man who had been a safe distance away from combat, he supposed, come to the Front, in his shiny boots and immaculate creases and pink, shaved face, for the last hour of the fighting.
As he looked across the square, Axel suddenly remembered where he was. The last few hours had been so extraordinary, so terrible, it had quite escaped him. This was the town he had marched through after they had disembarked from the train. Was it really only nine hours ago he had been here before? It seemed like half a lifetime.
As the soldiers continued to gather outside the railway station, he remembered with horror the men he had seen on the roof the previous night. Hadn’t they been fixing up explosives? He wanted to call out – warn the British troops. There was no sense in more soldiers being blown to pieces now.
Axel stood up quickly. ‘The railway station, it’s going to blow up,’ he said in German. ‘I’ve just remembered. Last night. When we marched through the town. They were putting explosives on the roof.’
Will stared at him blankly.
Eddie roused himself to translate. ‘Axel says the railway station’s been wired up – could blow at any minute.’
‘We’ve got to tell them,’ said Will. ‘Come on!’
The two of them began to walk quickly towards the men lined up in ranks before the station. The colonel was still holding forth – the men were completely silent. Axel could bear it no longer. They were all standing there and could get blown to pieces at any second. He started to call out in German ‘
Schnell! Rennen Sie weg!
’ – Quick! Get out of the way!
They all stopped and looked around. Axel felt terribly vulnerable. Several of the soldiers raised their rifles and pointed them at him. Will stood in front of him.
‘The station,’ Will shouted, pointing. ‘It’s wired with explosives. It might go up at any second. This German soldier is my prisoner. He’s just told me.’
‘Who is this?’ spluttered the colonel. ‘What’s this Hun blighter doing here? Somebody shoot him and let me get on.’
Fortunately for Axel, no one was prepared to take that remark seriously. A young lieutenant stepped forward and whispered in the colonel’s ear. Then the man said, ‘But I thought this place had been checked for traps. Rhodes, didn’t your men find a bomb in the basement?’
‘They did, sir,’ said the young lieutenant, ‘but if there is another one, they must have missed it. I think we should investigate further.’
Other senior officers began a heated conversation among themselves.
Lieutenant Rhodes grabbed Axel by the arm – not roughly, but like a teacher dealing with an unruly pupil, and certainly firmly enough to make it clear he would not stand for any nonsense. ‘What do you know?’ he said in passable German.
‘Please, sir,’ Axel gabbled, ‘I was here last night. I marched through the town. I saw some of our men fixing explosives to the roof.’
‘So why are you telling
us
?’ asked the officer in a reasonable tone.
‘The war is over,’ pleaded Axel. ‘What is the point of more of you being killed?’
‘Stand firm,’ bellowed a sergeant. The men snapped to attention in their columns. They were clearly uneasy, but no one was going to break ranks until they were ordered to do so.
‘Lieutenant Rhodes,’ called the colonel. The young officer went to him and they had a hurried conversation. The colonel spoke in short, angry sentences. Rhodes came back to Axel.
‘Whereabouts did you see these explosives?’ he asked.
‘I couldn’t tell exactly,’ said Axel. ‘It was dark. But I could see them handling wires and sticks of explosive.’
The officer conferred with the colonel again, still holding Axel tightly by the arm. Then he turned to him and said, ‘I’ve been ordered to search the building with you.’
The sergeant bellowed, ‘Men, take ten steps backwards.’
The men shuffled awkwardly back. There were a few uneasy murmurings. ‘Silence in the ranks,’ shouted the sergeant.
‘Rhodes,’ called the commander, ‘hurry up and take that wretch into the station and see what you can find.’
‘Very well, Colonel,’ said the lieutenant.
Axel marvelled at his sang froid. ‘But it might go up at any second,’ he said. ‘Please. I don’t know where the explosives are – other than somewhere on the roof. Maybe they put them in the gutter.’
The officer instructed Will to return to his post. Then, with one hand gripping Axel’s arm, he hurried into the building and up the stairs. For the third or fourth time that day Axel began to feel mortal fear, but this English officer seemed remarkably calm for someone who might be blown to pieces at any moment.
‘We found one large cache of explosives in the basement, on a time switch,’ he explained, as if he were talking to a colleague. ‘Twenty-four-hour fuse. My bomb-disposal boys must have thought that was it.’
‘You go first,’ said the officer when they came to a closed door in the entrance hall leading to the upper floors. Axel knew he thought the door might be booby-trapped. He refused to go. The officer pulled out his pistol. ‘No, after you, I insist,’ he said with mock courtesy.
‘But if I am killed, how will I be able to help you?’ Axel said desperately.
‘I’m sure I’ll manage,’ said the officer.
Axel pushed the door. It opened. Nothing happened.
The next doors they went through were open, and the lieutenant peered through each one, carefully looking for tripwires. But when they reached the door on the second floor leading up to the attic, it too was closed.
‘I’ll do this one,’ said Rhodes. He opened the door a sliver, so the hasp of the lock rested on the door frame. Then he told Axel to step back against the wall. Grabbing a chair that was sitting incongruously in the middle of this empty room, he stood the other side and swung it with all his might against the door, so it flew open. There was an immediate explosion and splinters and fragments, and a large portion of the door, blew out into the room, shattering some of the windows opposite.
The noise from the blast set Axel’s ears ringing. He peered into the staircase. It was still there. The charge had blown out rather than down. Rhodes was urging him up the stairs, but Axel could still not hear him. He took a deep breath and suddenly his hearing returned.
Down below in the square Axel could hear a commotion. Out of the window he saw some of the men break ranks. Their rebellion spread like wildfire. The whole group took to their heels and ran to the other end of the square.
‘Never mind that. Up to the roof,’ Rhodes said. ‘There’s a skylight up there, we can see down on the eaves easily enough.’ Then he said, ‘Oh, hang on,’ and went over to a shattered window. ‘We’re both all right,’ he called down. Only the sergeant, the colonel and a handful of officers were still there by the railway station. The sergeant was yelling himself hoarse, but the men remained at the far end of the square. The colonel told him to save his breath and dismissed the other officers still there with him.
Axel and the lieutenant hurried up the stairs, hoping the explosion had not made them unsafe. They seemed solid enough. Axel kept wondering if he would be killed at any second by another mine or booby trap left by his comrades.
Like the room downstairs, the attic was empty. Whatever had been kept up here had been taken by the retreating soldiers. ‘Quick, climb on my shoulders,’ said the lieutenant. ‘Have a look through that skylight. See what you can see.’
Rhodes braced himself against the wall and cupped his hands so Axel could climb up. It was an awkward business, but he managed to haul himself up and was just tall enough to be able to peer out of the skylight.
‘I can’t see anything,’ said Axel. He was beginning to sweat, despite the cold. If the building went up, they would be blown apart or buried in rubble. He had survived the war. He didn’t want to die now. ‘Down you come,’ said the lieutenant, and Axel leaped down, landing on the bare wooden floorboards with a loud thump.
Rhodes accepted his observation. ‘There must be something,’ he said. He darted over to the chimney. ‘Maybe it’s up
here
.’ He took a small pocket torch from his jacket and pointed it up the chimney shaft.
‘A-ha! So there you are,’ he said to himself, and Axel froze. He recognised that tone, even if he didn’t understand the words. He called Axel over, and handed him his torch. ‘Look at that – taped just inside the chimney breast. Standard detonation device. Acid eating through a wire, I imagine. When did you see your fellows up on the roof?’
Axel racked his brains. ‘About three in the morning, I think.’
‘These things usually go off after one or two hours, sometimes six or nine.’ He looked at his watch, then said decisively, ‘Let’s go. It could go off any second.’ Axel didn’t need to be told twice. He ran down the stairs three at a time, the lieutenant right behind him.
Axel burst out of the main entrance to find the colonel and the sergeant standing right outside by the awning. The rest of the soldiers were still at the far side of the square, waiting to see what would happen.
Axel wondered if the colonel felt he had to stay where he had commanded his men to stand. Maybe he was braver than Axel had first thought. Maybe he felt he had to share the danger with this junior officer he had sent into the building. Axel also admired the loyalty of the Sergeant.
Rhodes had run down the stairs too, but as he got to the entrance hall Axel could see he had stopped for a moment to catch his breath. He sauntered out, trying to look as unhurried and unflustered as possible.
‘There is a large explosive charge in the chimney, sir,’ he said as he saluted.
‘Very well, Rhodes, well done. A regrettable lapse, though, on behalf of your search team. Surely they should have looked in the attic as well as the basement.’
‘Indeed, sir. I shall speak to them.’