‘Make ready!,’ Andreas called to the machine-gun crew and Stakiserou pulled back the cocking lever and it snapped back with a metal clatter. Beside him knelt Papadakis, feeding the ammunition belt from its case and offering it up to the weapon. Then all three waited, still and tense, as the growl of the approaching vehicles steadily swelled in volume. As the noise grew, it seemed to take an eternity before the first vehicle appeared round the corner of the hill and entered the stretch of road Andreas had chosen for the ambush. He felt his heart give a lurch as he saw it was the armoured car. It must have changed positions in the column.
‘Shit . . .’
He had planned to open fire while the last truck was on the corner, blocking the armoured car. Now it would have to be dealt with. He turned and glanced at Stakiserou and muttered, ‘Wait for me to shoot first.’
The petty officer grunted an acknowledgement, keeping his eyes fixed on the approaching enemy.
The armoured car’s engine strained as it continued up the slope, dust rising in its wake. A man in a side cap stood in the low turret, hands gripping the steel rim as he scrutinised the way ahead. Behind came a small car with four men in it, two wearing officer’s caps. Then the first of the lorries, open, with ten or twelve men, sitting on the benches on either side of the bed. Few wore their helmets and Andreas could see that some were laughing as they shouted to their companions above the din of the vehicles. He raised his rifle and felt a nervous trembling in his limbs before he angrily forced himself to concentrate, to think of nothing but taking aim at his enemy and waiting until the right time to open fire. He sighted on the man standing in the armoured car, lining the German up with the pin on his muzzle and the notch at the rear, close to his eye. He breathed steadily, fighting the urge to pull the trigger. He must wait until the last truck was abreast of the men hiding amongst the rocks above the enemy column.
As the armoured car rumbled closer, to within fifty metres, Andreas could make out the details on the face of his target. A broad forehead above glasses that glinted as they caught the sun. He was reminded of Peter. For an instant he was seized by the sudden fear that it was his friend. That some horrifying trick of fate had placed Peter in front of him. He dismissed the thought, it was almost impossible that it could be so, and now the man was close enough for Andreas to be sure that it was not. He breathed in deeply, pulled the butt of the rifle into his shoulder and gently squeezed the trigger.
Chapter Fifteen
T
he violence of the recoil and the numbing blast of the shot shocked Andreas and he instinctively blinked. His eyes opened just in time to see the German in the turret lurch back, throwing his arms in the air before he slumped inside the vehicle. The Hotchkiss burst into life with a deafening rattle close to Andreas, drowning out the fusillade of shots ringing out from amongst the rocks. The other machine gun joined in, spraying bullets into the first of the trucks, striking men down as they began to scramble off the vehicle when the driver braked. Behind, the other lorries stopped abruptly and the men jumped off the rear, under fire from the rocks, and Andreas saw more of them fall.
There was a sudden flash and roar as the first of the grenades hurled by the ambushers exploded and then there were more blasts along the line of the road. Detonation after detonation, drowning out the rattle and crack of small-arms fire and sending clouds of dust swirling into the air. One landed close to the first truck and there was a bright flare and a loud thud as the petrol tank caught fire and exploded in a brilliant fireball of red, orange, gold and black. Two men close by were engulfed in the flames and then staggered off the road, human torches blazing before they fell and writhed. The armoured car swerved to the side of the road and ran on to the banked earth at an angle.
‘Bastards!’ Stakiserou shouted as he hunched low, squinting down the barrel of the Hotchkiss, traversing left and right as he fired. Brass cases leaped from the side of the weapon, tumbling to the ground. At his side Papadakis gritted his teeth against the deafening storm of sounds assaulting his ears and concentrated on feeding the ammunition belt as steadily as he could.
Andreas worked the bolt on his rifle, adjusted his aim and lined it up on the small car. The driver and the two officers had leaped out and were sheltering behind it as they looked for their opponents amongst the rocks above the road. Some of their men were firing back blindly and puffs of shattered stone were bursting off the boulders around the ambushers’ positions. Shutting his left eye, Andreas aimed at the nearest of the officers and fired. The bullet caught him in the shoulder and the German spun round and fell on his back. At once his companions realised that they were caught in a crossfire and hastily pulled the wounded officer off the road and over the lip of the slope beyond. Andreas shot again and missed and then they were out of sight.
The clatter of the machine guns continued uninterrupted as they sprayed bullets along the line of the German convoy. Andreas lowered his rifle and saw that at least fifteen men were down while most of the others had taken cover. A handful had worked their way a short distance up the slope and were exchanging shots with the Greek sailors.
‘Stakiserou!’ Andreas shouted, waving his hand to draw the petty officer’s attention. He carried on shooting, his face contorted into a snarl, until Papadakis punched him in the arm and pointed. The din of the Hotchkiss immediately ceased.
‘Up there! The men on the slope. Keep their heads down! Don’t let ’em get any closer to our lads.’
Stakiserou nodded and shifted his aim, then the Hotchkiss clattered again and Andreas saw clods of soil and shards of stone leap into the air around the Germans attempting to work their way up the slope. One man slumped down and his comrades dropped and pressed themselves to the ground. An instant later a second truck was engulfed in fire as the bullets of the other machine gun struck home, and flame and smoke billowed along the road, obscuring the view from Andreas’s position. Stakiserou fired a few more shots and then paused, searching for fresh targets as the men on the slope kept up their attack. One by one the surviving Germans sprinted or crept for the cover of the lower slope, diving over the edge of the road and out of the line of fire.
The sound of shooting gradually died away, save for an occasional shot as a head was raised or there was a suspicious movement amid the undergrowth beside the road. Andreas looked down the line of the convoy and saw that the car was riddled with bullets, as were the two surviving lorries, while the others blazed. The straining note of an engine drew his attention back to the armoured car. The driver had succeded in freeing the vehicle from the earth bank and was reversing it back on to the road. Already the low turret was swinging towards Andreas and his companions and he could see the muzzle of the machine gun foreshortening.
‘Get down!’ he called out.
A moment later the German gunner opened fire and at once the branches of the trees above them were shredded by bullets, causing a deluge of twigs and pine cones. All three men flattened themselves as their position was raked by the machine gun. Then it stopped. Andreas stayed low, breathing hard, and then cautiously raised his head. He could see the armoured car, slowly reversing back towards the ruined convoy. The turret turned as the barrel of the machine gun angled up towards the rocks and it opened fire again in short bursts to force the ambushers to stay in cover.
While it was suppressing the Greeks, Andreas saw the uninjured German officer rise into a crouch and wave his men forward, along the edge of the road towards the front of the convoy. The intention was clear.
‘They’re going to try and outflank our men on the slopes. I don’t think the officer has seen us.’ Andreas pointed him out. ‘Let ’em get up and get closer. The moment they are alongside the armoured car, open up.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Stakiserou nodded and turned to Papadakis. The latter was still lying face down, pressing himself into the ground, trembling. The petty officer gave him a shove. ‘Get up, you! We’ve still got work to do. Feed me the ammo. Come on, Papadakis! Up!’
Andreas already knew what had to be done while his comrades kept the enemy occupied. The armoured car had to be dealt with to prevent it pinning his men down and giving the Germans a chance to mount a counter-attack. Crawling over to the Hotchkiss, he picked up the haversack containing the grenades.
‘Keep their heads down. I’ll deal with the armoured car.’
Stakiserou shot him an anxious look and then nodded. ‘Be careful, sir. We’ll do our best.’
‘Good luck!’ Andreas patted the petty officer on the thigh and turned to crawl away. Slinging his rifle across his back he stayed low, working his arms and legs as he made his way along the edge of the pine trees and then the lip of the road towards the armoured car, whose turret was constantly moving and occasionally firing short bursts. He could hear snatches of exchanges between the enemy as they gathered themselves to make a move. Then, not more than ten metres ahead, he saw a helmet rise above a rock and an instant later a pair of eyes widened as they saw the Greek officer making towards them. Andreas clawed at the strap of his rifle but it was caught tightly against his shoulder. At the same time the German rose into a crouch and brought up his Mauser to shoot. There was just time for Andreas to feel an ice-cold certainty that he was about to die when the Hotchkiss fired again and the German’s helmet snapped back and he fell behind the rock. A stream of bullets followed to discourage any more of his comrades before Stakiserou ceased shooting. A moment later the armoured car returned fire, and the trees directly above the machine-gun position trembled and shattered under the impact. A large branch snapped and fell down on to the two sailors as Andreas watched. If they were pinned down then nothing would stop the enemy from working their way round the ambush position, climbing into the rocks and attacking the remaining Greeks from the flank and rear.
Andreas knew his men depended on him and he must do his duty, despite his fears. He muttered a brief prayer to calm his shaken nerves, and then continued crawling forwards. The sound of the armoured car’s engine was close now and he fumbled with the buckle of the haversack before reaching inside for one of the grenades. The hard, milled surface felt cold in his hand. The time had come for him to act, yet still he hesitated, knowing the risk he faced. This was the great test and he felt his courage wavering at the prospect of death. Then his mind calmed at the thought. The certainty of death if he refused to move balanced against the probability of death if he rushed towards the armoured car. In the end it was a logical decision.
Snatching a deep breath, he rose into a crouch, and saw the front plate of the armoured car no more than fifteen paces away. The turret was swinging back towards the rocks. Through the driver’s viewing slit he could see the man’s head was turned away, towards one of his companions, and Andreas clamped his jaw tightly and ran forwards in a crouch his heart beating wildly inside his chest. His gaze was riveted to the armoured car, then he heard the shout of alarm from the side of the road. He was halfway there, boots pounding on the dry, rutted road, when the first shot was fired from his right.
The sound instantly alerted the driver and he turned back, seeing his foe running directly towards him. His mouth opened and he shouted. The turret began to swing faster, arcing round towards Andreas. He ran the last few paces at a desperate sprint and threw himself on to the front of the vehicle, his spare hand snatching at the straps holding the water cans to the side. He hauled himself up beside the barrel of the machine gun and felt it lurch as it opened fire. But it was too late to scare the Germans now.
He tore the pin out and balled his hand round the grenade as he swung up and looked down into the turret. It was no more than a second but he took in every detail of the interior. The terrified face of the gunner looking up at him. The body of the man he had shot at the start of the ambush slumped on the floor of the vehicle, hand clasped to his chest, his face contorted with pain. The back of the driver, hunched over his steering wheel. The brass cases of spent rounds littering the drab grey of the interior. Then the gunner snatched at the pistol holder on his belt and Andreas threw his fist down, hard, striking the man on the nose. He winced and opened his hand and the safety lever sprang out as the grenade fell into the armoured car with a loud clatter and rolled back under the gunner’s seat. There was a cry of alarm as Andreas jumped clear, and stumbled, rolling over before half rising and running a few steps on before the grenade went off with a roar. Flame and smoke shot out of the turret and through the driver’s slit and Andreas sprawled on the ground, gouging his cheek. The sharp pain concentrated his mind and he rolled on to his side and looked back.
The armoured car’s engine was still running and it began to roll back steadily until it hit the car and stopped. Smoke rose from the turret and the barrel of the machine gun aimed at the sky. There was no sign of life from within, no sound, and then Andreas saw the spray of blood on the plate in front of the driver’s viewing slit and felt a tremor of horror at what he had done, which quickly gave way to a sense of triumph.
The explosion had momentarily caused the shooting to stop as the combatants’ eyes were drawn to the spectale of the knocked-out armoured car. There was a harsh cheer from the trees where Stakiserou and Papadakis were positioned, and the cry was taken up along the side of the hill. From the Germans there was only a brief, ominous silence, and then an angry shout and an uneven volley of rifle fire and the staccato crash of a machine pistol. Andreas heard the impact on the ground around him and lay as flat as he could in the hope that he might not be seen, or at least be taken for a corpse. His men returned fire, adding their shouts of triumph and defiance at the men who had invaded their country.
As the exchange of fire reached a crescendo, Andreas rose into a crouch and ran back up along the road and then dashed across and over the edge before making his way back to the machine-gun position. Stakiserou let out a delighted greeting at his reappearance and paused in his shooting.
‘You have the heart of a Spartan, Lieutenant! Heart of a Spartan. Fuck me . . .’
He shook his head and opened up on the Germans again. Beside him, Pertrakas regarded his officer with an awed expression, smiled awkwardly and then turned his attention back to feeding the belted ammunition into the Hotchkiss. Andreas slipped the rifle strap over his head and set the weapon down before he lay on his side breathing heavily, trying not to tremble.
‘They’re running!’ Papadakis shouted. ‘Look!’
Rolling on to his knees Andreas risked a cautious look and saw that the Germans were indeed on the move, falling back towards the corner of the road and the safety of the far side of the hill. The Greeks fired a few shots after them and then the guns fell silent. A cheer sounded from high up and Andreas saw Appellios rise up, waving his rifle from side to side as he shouted with elation.
‘What is that fool doing?’ Stakiserous snarled. ‘Get back under cover . . .’
Andreas jumped up and waved his hands frantically to attract the lookout’s attention and motion him to get down.
A rifle cracked, the sound echoing up the slope. Andreas saw the young sailor freeze in motion, his rifle held up over his head. Then he fell, out of view. A sick feeling swelled up inside Andreas. There was a dreadful stillness before the petty officer cleared his throat and spat. ‘What are your orders now, sir?’
The ambush had succeeded far better than Andreas had anticipated. They set fire to the remaining German lorries and the armoured car and retreated in both of their own vehicles to the next position. Nearly two kilometres down the road was another natural choke point on the junction above Sivota bay. It would take the Germans a while to catch up with them, Andreas calculated. They would proceed far more cautiously along the road towards Sivota and there would be no element of surprise for the Greek rearguard. They had bought their comrades a little time, but now there would be a heavier price to pay when the Germans attacked again.
Besides the death of Appellios, another man had been killed and two wounded, one seriously. There was no time to waste on retrieving their comrades’ bodies and they were left where they had fallen. Andreas sent the wounded back to the submarine in one of the lorries while the other was parked, ready for the final dash down the winding road that led into the bay. He had six men left. Once they had set up the two machine guns he gathered them together by a roadside shrine for a last word before they faced the enemy once more. They regarded him calmly and he was impressed by their cool demeanour. Even Papadakis seemed to have got over his earlier nerves.