The Man who Missed the War (53 page)

Zadok peered into the globe. ‘Ah!’ he exclaimed softly. ‘I know that little man well by sight. He is one of the Joint Planning Staff, but never before have I seen him outside the Cabinet Offices.’

Philip proceeded with a routine description for the record. ‘The man from London is short and dark. He is plump, wears several medal ribbons and is rather red in the face. He and the General have just found that they have several friends in common and that they were both born in Eighteen Ninety-Seven. The General said, “And a damn’ good vintage too!” I doubt if they’ll say
anything of interest about the war in the middle of a crowd like that though, so we might as well see what’s going on elsewhere.’

The picture moved through the hall of the mess to a big lounge. The whole place was packed with about half and half officers and glider pilots of the Sixth Airborne Division, in khaki, and the R.A.F. officers who were to fly them over, in Air Force blue. They were all mixed up together and in tremendous spirits. None of them yet knew the date that had been fixed for D-Day, but they did know that, the camp having been sealed the day before, it could not be far off. Philip recorded that they were betting that immediately the invasion was started the Germans would retire to the Rhine because they would not dare to face the Anglo-Americans on so long a front as the Atlantic Wall. Clearly their morale and confidence in their own fighting powers were terrific.

The picture next toured the station offices. These were now semi-deserted but the Station Commander, Group-Captain Surplice—a tall, well-built fellow with very blue eyes and white even teeth—was just receiving some weather reports which made him frown. This, together with Zadok’s self-satisfied smile, gave Philip cause to assume that the Atzlanteans’ counter-invasion measures had already started.

Back in the mess an airman was asking the General what weapon he personally was going to take for the battle. He roared with laughter and replied: ‘Weapon! What the hell do I want with a weapon? If I have the good luck to get anywhere near those so-and-so’s my boots are good enough for me!’

As there was nothing going on that was worth recording it was suggested that the screening should be broken off for a while. Zadok agreed and left them. Philip walked over to the instrument board and stood for a little beside Arkitl, the member of Number Three team who always attended it when they were on duty. The red vapour was swirling into the big retort. Arkitl watched it carefully and each time it filled turned over the lever that released it into the tubes that carried it away.

For some time they sat about, then Zadok’s deputy Kishdil came in, and the screening was resumed. The aerodrome was now dark and almost deserted. In the mess everyone had gone to bed
except the General and the man from London. They were discussing the qualities that made a good leader.

The General insisted that only one thing mattered—efficiency. If the men knew that you really knew your job they would follow you blindly anywhere.

His companion asked him why he wore his grey jodhpurs instead of the conventional battledress.

‘What’s that got to do with it?’ he wanted to know. ‘Anyhow, it’s not because of the look of the thing. I wear them because they’re comfortable and I hate the feel of that beastly khaki serge.’

‘Just as I thought,’ replied the other. ‘That’s simply another way of saying that you’re independent-minded and the jodhpurs are an expression of your strong personality. Good leadership may be nine-tenths efficiency, but the odd tenth of personality must be there as well.’

Deciding that the argument was of no particular interest, Kishdil did not wait to hear the end of it, but took the picture outside. In the open a strong wind was now blowing, and the storm clouds were piling up to hide the stars. There seemed no point in continuing the screening, so it was closed down for the night.

When Philip and Gloria got to their room she said: ‘What d’you think will happen, Boy? D’you think they’ll go tomorrow night, storm or no storm, or not?’

Philip smiled at her. ‘Can you imagine men like Richard Gale being put off by a capful of wind? And your people are just as tough as mine. Of course, it will make things much more difficult. If the weather’s very bad a lot of the gliders will break away from the towing planes and a lot of the landing-craft will be swamped, so our casualties’ are bound to be much heavier. But they’ll go in just the same. They can’t afford not to now that all that shipping is on the move.’

He was, therefore, all the more shocked and distressed when he learned in the middle of the following morning that, owing to the extraordinarily adverse weather conditions which had developed in the past twenty hours, the Allied High Command had decided to postpone the operation. Against all his expectations the Atzlanteans had won the first round hands down.

A screening revealed the personnel of the aerodrome going about their respective businesses as usual. Very few people there had ever known the date of D-Day, so they were equally unaware of the postponement. The only two who could have any idea of its full implications were the General and the Wing-Commander from London. As they talked of it quietly together, the latter was saying gloomily that during the night over four thousand ships and many thousands of smaller craft had moved up and were now massed round the Isle of Wight. The cloudy weather was ideal for the Boche aircraft to sneak through, and it only needed one to nip in and out again for the whole works to be blown. If that happened the Germans might decide to throw in every available Luftwaffe plane that could cover the distance; in which case there would be the most appalling massacre among our close-berthed stationary shipping.

Everyone else, completely unaware of the terrible menace that now overhung this great operation for which they had spent so many months in training, remained in excellent spirits; and that night there was a spontaneous sing-song in the mess in which senior and junior alike joined in all the old choruses at the tops of their voices.

By midnight the sing-song was practically over, only a few roisterers remained, and Kishdil was just about to close down the screening for the night when Quetzl caught sight of the General’s A.D.C.—a good-looking young lieutenant, whom they knew by his Christian name of Tom—hurrying down the corridor towards his chief’s room.

The picture followed him into the General’s bedroom. The General had left the sing-song only three-quarters of an hour before, but he was already in bed and asleep. Tom woke him and handed him a flimsy with a single code-word written on it.

The General glanced at it, then looked at him and said: ‘The job’s on, Tom! This time tomorrow night we’ll be on our way.’

Zadok was sent for immediately. When he came in his parchment-like face had gone a yellowish colour under the natural red tint of his skin. His dark eyes were bilious, and he could not control his skinny hands which were trembling with rage. But he was not at a loss for long.

Having spoken to the others in Atzlantean, he turned to Philip
and said: ‘It is typical of the pig-headed British and their crazy American allies to launch a forlorn hope instead of having the sense to admit defeat. But they will be made to pay for their folly. We shall put Plan Two into operation at once.

‘The Lord Toxil has approved that, in the event of the Anglo-Americans deciding to go in, we should conserve the energies that we have at our command for the next five days. The energy already released is sufficient to cause sea-sickness among the troops and difficulty for the landing-craft. On D-plus-Four we shall create the biggest storm that there has been for a hundred years in June in the English Channel. In this way we shall cut the invasion force off from its base before it has had time to gain a secure foothold, and break up the Mulberries before they can be got into working order. Stunned and disorganised as the Germans are by the ceaseless bombing, they should at least be able to do the rest.’

Zadok paused for a moment, then went on: ‘In addition, there is a local operation which I shall direct personally from this room. The most vulnerable spot in the Anglo-American Invasion Army will be its left flank. There are neither the troops nor the room at the base of the Cotentin Peninsula for the Germans to attempt a major counter-attack against the Americans on the right; but the Twenty-First Panzer Division will be within easy striking distance of the British on the left, and it could be supported by many other good formations. If the British flank is left open, their destruction is inevitable. By smashing it we can make a German victory certain. Tomorrow night it will be for us here to ensure that the British Airborne Forces never get in!’

When Philip and Gloria got to their room he was smiling. ‘I knew it,’ he said. ‘I knew they’d have a cut at it whatever the weather. And we’ve got the finest seamen in the world. By hook or by crook the Navy will get the Army ashore. But it’s going to be a sticky wicket after that.’

Gloria took his crutches from him and helped him to lower himself on to his cushions, as she replied: ‘I’m so glad it’s come at last. ‘Tis the waiting that’s been the worst part. Tell me, Boy, what’s the best we can hope to do?’

He drew her down beside him and lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘You heard what Zadok said. The success or failure of
the whole operation depends on the Sixth British Airborne Division securing the left flank. The counter-measures to wreck it are to be conducted from our room. That gives us a real chance. If we play our cards properly I believe we can win for our Airborne Forces just one hour.’

As they walked down the gloomy tunnel to the first screening of the following morning, there were two things that filled them with acute anxiety. One was the possibility that some unforeseen factor might arise to disturb the normal routine of the coming night’s procedure. The other was the latent power that lay in Zadok’s eyes.

They had sat up far into the night planning their
coup
and settling the details of the action they proposed to attempt; but, if anything happened to throw the routine out of gear, their whole plan might be ruined.

That Zadok would take the screening himself they felt reasonably certain. Thousands of tons of paper had been consumed by the Allied Staffs in planning the innumerable aspects of the Invasion, thousands of telegrams had been exchanged between London and Washington, and thousands of hours had been spent in conferences. But that was all over now, and at this eleventh hour not even one more sheet of paper would be used to amend the rôle of a single man. Again the likelihood of a second postponement, now that the word to set going the million wheels of the vast machine had actually been given, was practically out of the question. In consequence, Zadok’s Number One and Number Two teams had become overnight little more than interested spectators, and his Number Three team was bound to receive the lion’s share of his attention.

In any case, they had made their plan on the assumption that he would be present, but the thing that perturbed them most was their lack of knowledge about his hypnotic powers. Coxitl had paralysed Philip with a single glance, and it seemed certain
that, as one of the seven, Zadok would be possessed of even more remarkable powers. But could he, for example, paralyse a person’s brain and strike them down by looking through the back of their head? There was no possible way in which Philip or Gloria could answer this, and they knew that they must now leave the success or failure of their plan on the knees of the Gods.

When the first screening opened the activities on the aerodrome and in its vicinity appeared little different from those on the previous day. Very few people yet knew that this was D-l, and it was not until lunchtime that the whisper went round: ‘Final briefing at three o’clock.’

In due course the picture followed the General and most of the senior officers from the Mess some distance across the camp to a long hut with blacked-out windows. At one end, beyond a raised platform, the Intelligence officers had arranged a large map of the Channel and the invasion area, with the routes to be taken by the aircraft, and dropping zones for the paratroops, marked clearly upon it.

The rest of the hut was filled with wooden tables and benches crowded with R.A.F. Pilots and glider Pilots of the Airborne Division all mixed up together. General Gale now had another General with him, and the two of them were shortly afterwards joined by an Air Vice-Marshal. As the two newcomers were introduced Philip caught their names and the particulars that emerged about them.

They were General Crawford, D. Air of the War Office, and Air Vice-Marshal Hollinghurst, the A.O.C. of the Group which was to fly the Airborne Division in. Both had played a great part in the organisation and training of the Airborne Forces, and both of them were going to fly over to France that night as passengers, to see what further lessons they could learn from the actual operaton.

The proceedings were opened by the Station Commander, who read Orders of the Day from General Eisenhower and Air Marshal Sir Trafford Leigh-Mallory; after which he explained the general lay-out of the seaborne assault.

General Gale then stepped up on to the platform and said that his task was to protect the left flank of the Allied Armies.
To do this three separate landings would be made to the east of the River Orne. A château that contained a local Headquarters had to be taken, and a powerful battery that enfiladed the assault beaches had to be destroyed. Then two adjacent bridges crossing the River Orne and the Dives canal about five miles from the coast had to be seized intact, and further inland other bridges had to be blown up. The General meant to establish his battle H.Q. between the two seized bridges; to infest with his men all the territory to the east in order to delay a German attack against the British flank, and, when the attack came, as come it must, to fight with his back to the double waterline.

When the General had finished, the Station Commander briefed his pilots, and the Signals Officer, the Meteorological Officer and the Secret Devices Officer in turn gave their technical informaton to the air crews. The first briefing, which had taken just an hour, was then over, but two further briefings of a similar nature for other parties were to follow. For these Zadok relieved his Number Three team with trainees, so Philip and Gloria were free to leave the screening room.