On the Edge of Darkness (Special Force Orca Book 1) (25 page)

“
Squad!… Wait for it, wait for it! Squad…Shun! High port, arms!”

Stone
turned right smartly and marched to the end of the line, where he halted and faced front. “Front rank, one round only, over their ‘eads…Present!…Aim!…Fire!”

The volley cracked out
, echoing back from the warehouses, reverberating around the dockyard. The effect was as instantaneous as it was dramatic, the rabble froze, stopping dead in their tracks. Then, most turned on their heels and began running back down the jetty scrambling and falling over each other in their haste to escape. The rest, bolder or more foolish than their friends, took cover behind the metal bollards lining both sides of the jetty.

Stone looked across at his officer
, he was still hiding behind the boat where he had left him. He hoped the men hadn’t noticed.

“
High port arms! Order arms! Prepare to fix bayonets…Fix…Bayonets!” The click as the wicked bayonets turned into their sockets was followed by an eerie silence. A silence that seemed to extend beyond the dockyard, it was as if all the fighting and the looting in Boulogne had suddenly stopped and the whole of the city was holding its breath.

Except, that was
for Petty Officer Stone, “Squad! Shun! Slope… arms!

By the left… quick… march!

Eleven men stepped smartly off. The remains of mob rose one by one from cover staring at the advancing line of seamen.

“
On guard!” Eleven rifles flashed in the sunlight, the seamen marched on, no break in their step.

The sight of the bayonets extended out to the front on the long Lee Enfield were enough
. The remaining looters turned and ran.

*     *     *

Lieutenant Grey peered out from the sandbagged emplacement in which they had set up their HQ. There was a lull in the firing. He could see Petty Officer Stone and his men had resumed working at the shore end of the jetty. They still had no contact with the port authorities.

Grey came out
of cover into the open, looking to left and right he broke into a run out into the open ground. He could feel the fear rising like bile from the pit of his stomach, his hair prickling on the back of his neck. Reaching Stone and his men, he stared aghast at a huge hole they had made in the floor of the jetty.

“
What are you doing PO! How are we to get to the shore, how will the troops reach the ships?… For crying out loud!”

Stone stepped in close to the distraught officer, his voice low
, so it would not reach the men. “Keep your voice down, please, sir… You’ll upset the men. We have to defend our position, that rabble could come back, perhaps with some of their friends, ” he gestured over his shoulder towards the other jetty. “A lot of them still have their weapons. I’ve got the men to lift these planks so they can’t just storm in ‘ere at will.”

Grey looked harassed, gazing at the planks and then at his PO.

Stone could see he wasn’t getting through, Grey hadn’t heard him. “I’ll be our first line of defence, sir. It will make getting onto the jetty more difficult. Once the planks are off, if need be, a couple of men will be able to keep the boat safe.

There was still no response from Grey.
“We’ll use the planks that we remove to make a gangway, we’ll be able to slide it across when we need it.” Stone stared at his superior officer with a growing realisation that it was all too much for the man.

Grey nodded,
his eyes flickering wildly he turned away and abruptly sat down on a stack of the wood his knees pulled up close to his chest.

“
Perhaps it would be best if you returned to the emplacement, sir. I can take charge here.”

Grey stood up and without a word walked off.

Stone remained where he was for several seconds, staring after his superior. Then, conscious that the men had stopped working and were watching as well, he walked quickly after Grey calling out loud, “Where did you say you wanted the Bren situated, sir?”

*     *     *

Grey was sitting on the floor behind the sand bags, his knees hunched up to his chest, drinking from a canteen, Stone could smell the gin, he swore under his breath, that was all he needed, as if things weren’t bad enough. “Good stuff that, sir, but it won’t help the rest of us…You’ve work to do…the men are relying on us. There’ll be a time and a place for this.” He snatched the canteen from the officer’s limp-fingered grasp, “But it ain’t here and it ain’t now.” He crouched down beside Grey. “You’ll be better off without it, sir.” he added in a gentler ton.

Grey had made no objection, unable to meet the P.O.’s steely blue eyes, instead he stared at the floor.
“Can’t you see PO…”

Stone could see
he was close to tears.

“
I can’t cope with all… I’m afraid, you see… I’ve been able to leave this sort of thing…” he swept an arm up and let it fall back down, he took a deep breath, “…to avoid this sort of thing…leave it to the others.”

Look, sir, you
’re as good a bloke as they come, I know that, if there’s one thing I’m good at it’s judging blokes, you’ll do. Take it from me. I know this job inside bloody out… Christ knows I’ve been enough years at it. Stick close to me, I’ll help yer, cover for you if needs be. Take you under my wing, as they say… We’re all afraid of something.”

“
Not Barr not Grant, they aren’t afraid of anything,” Grey spit it out as if he was accusing them of some monstrous crime.

“
Oh they’re good officers all right, sir; two of the best. But they’re as afraid as the rest of us, take my word for it…either that or they’re stark staring mad, one of the two….”

Grey shook his head
despairingly, “No, not them!”

“
Well, begging yer pardon, sir, I know better, it’s all an act …we all do it…. for the sake of the lads and for our mates, but mostly we do it for ourselves, believe you me , we’re all as scared as each other…The trick is not to show it.”

Grey looked up for the first time.

The Petty Officer stared back for a few moments and then said gently “ All you’ll need to do is follow my lead, it’s the way we all learn… bit by bit, poco y poco, as a Spanish bird I knew used to say. You were thrown in at the deep end when they made you up First Lieutenant, everyone knows that. You’ll have to learn while you’re doing the job, is all.” Stone sat down on the wet boards. “I had longer than you to do it all in. I grew up with good blokes around me on the mess deck. I knew how to act the part even before I’d got my first stripe. You’ve had it thrust on you all in one lump, that’s what’s wrong, mark my words. You’ll be all right, you see.”

“
Yes…yes… Thank you, PO.”

“
That’s the stuff, sir…Let’s start right away, shall we? Stone smiled the sort of smile you’d give a child on their first day at a new school. “Watch and learn, eh, sir? Watch and learn.”

Stone stood up, gesturing to Grey to join him at his side. Loudly he answered an unspoken question.
“I see them, sir,” he said pointing, “So you want the lads to use them to build shelters at intervals along the jetty.”

“
Erh…Yes… PO… Carry on.”

“
Aye, Aye, sir!” Stone said out loud adding, “That’s the stuff… sir.” under his breath.

*     *     *

The extra sandbags had been a wise precaution on the part of the Petty Officer, An hour of steady work had barely elapsed, the seamen were putting the last of them into place when the German snipers returned. Bullets kicked up splinters from the wooden boards, thwacked into the bags, zipping over their heads like angry bees. It would have been impossible to move on the exposed jetty without the hastily erected cover.

The puffs of smoke from the windows of a hotel clearly marked the enemy
’s new positions. The Bren, returning the fire, managed to keep the snipers occupied while the seamen ran from shelter to shelter with the last of the sandbags. Grey’s visual signalman noticed his sandbag getting lighter and lighter. When he reached the end shelter he found a sniper’s bullet had slit open one end of the bag and a trail of sand ran back the length of the jetty. He threw it to the boards in disgust and flopped down, his back against the sandbags. He looked out to sea. “Sir!”… he called, “Two warships… just off the headland, to the north!”

Grey
’s head appeared from the adjacent shelter as the signalman fumbled in his pack to find binoculars. “Destroyers…I think, sir…” He raised the glasses to dirt ringed eyes. That’s a ‘B’ Class leading them in.”

By now
Grey had his binoculars trained on the distant ships, “By God! Petty Officer, he’s right, It’s the Dover Patrol! That must be the ‘Keith’.”

“
It’s like the cavalry arriving in one of them Yankee pictures, called the signalman.

“
Shouldn’t we signal them, sir?” asked Stone, wincing as a sniper’s bullet kicked up dust at their feet. Grey shuffled back into cover. The signalman, crawling on all fours, appeared dragging the portable signalling lamp. Mind reading was one of the attributes of a good signalman.

“
‘Bunty’, said Grey, “make the recognition signal to the ‘Keith’ ask her…ask her...” he fell silent looking at Stone.

“
Sorry to interrupt, sir, but she could give us some support against the snipers up in those buildings.”

“
That’s …what I was about to say, PO.”

The signalman nodded lifting his Al
dis, he sighted it as if it was a rifle and its light began to dance on the sandbags. Almost immediately, an answering glint of light came from the lead destroyer. The signalman sent the message, fast, pausing only occasionally for the long flash from the warship which showed she was receiving correctly. “They’re asking ‘where away’ sir.”

“
What was it you said earlier, sir? Something about using the Aldis to pick it out… Wasn’t that what you said?”

“
Erh?…yes.”

“
Right, you heard the Officer. Let the ‘Keith’ know what you’re doing and then illuminate the snipers’ position. But keep your bloody head down…don’t want you getting a packet… my Morse ain’t none too good.”

The Morse lamp chattered out once more and then the powerful beam of light swung around and steadied on the
hotel.

There followed a short silence, Grey watched the
‘Keith’ through his binoculars. Abruptly there was a puff of harmless looking smoke that drifted lazily away on the breeze. Then an anticlimactic crump, a whistling noise that built to a screaming crescendo as the sighting shot flashed by, high over their head. The explosion shook the old jetty as if they were at the epicentre of an earthquake. A ragged cheer went up from the ‘Nishgas’, cut short as they ducked to avoid the debris that fell like rain around their position.

*     *     *

Stone, arms crossed, stood alongside Grey, as the two destroyers crept cautiously through the harbour entrance. “Not that hard really is it, sir?”

“
What isn’t, PO?” asked Grey, a smile on his face for the first time since they had stepped ashore.

The big PO nodded slowly, smiling in return.

The moment did not last long, Grey suddenly grabbed Stone’s arm, “Quickly PO! They’re not coming alongside here, they’re heading for the other jetty. Leave two men here, tell them to pull in the gangway once we’re across, the rest to follow me at the double.”

Stone
’s voice boomed out and the men scrambled to their feet, snatching up their rifles, shrugging hastily into their heavy webbing and rucksacks they fell in. Within seconds and at the double, they were moving off in the direction of the other jetty.

It was overflowing
with men, dead, alive, wounded, French and British, civilian and military. The Nishgas pushed and shoved their way through, carefully stepping over the wounded and dying as they lay on their makeshift stretchers.

They reached the jetty
’s edge, just as the ‘Keith’ came in on her final approach. Here, what had been a cramped and chaotic situation had developed into a hysterical and potentially lethal push and shove to be the first aboard the destroyers. For it was here that many of the drunken, rebellious soldiers that they had encountered at the first jetty had ended up. They were determined to get on the first boat out of Boulogne and to make good their escape before the Germans overran the town. They resisted all the Nishgas attempts to clear them away.

The
destroyer came running in alongside the jetty like a steam train entering a station. She slowed, shuddered and came to a stop a few yards out from the concrete side of the jetty. Before even the first lines were passed, men began to jump across the yawning gap, reaching desperately for the destroyer’s guard rails. Before anything could be done several fell screaming into the churning waters below. Their heavy kit pulled them quickly under; dying almost unnoticed in the yelling and pushing.