Authors: James Holland
The German NCO pointed to the rest of them and walked
towards Tanner. He was looking at Tanner's rifle and the Mauser slung on his
other shoulder.
Damn it,
thought Tanner. Now just a few feet away, the German
addressed him directly, ignoring Nielssen. Again he pointed angrily to the
rifle Tanner held and the other on his shoulder. What was he saying? Why have
you got two? Where did you get that Tommy rifle? Tanner had no idea.
Sod it,
he thought. 'I'm sorry, mate, I
don't understand a word you're saying,' he said, as he drew back the bolt on
his rifle, pushed it forward, clicked it back into place, and squeezed the
trigger. The report echoed round the church and surrounding buildings, the
German crumpled to the ground, and at that moment, the bridge blew. Tanner
started, but so did the enemy soldiers, who ducked involuntarily and looked
south towards the bridge as an orange ball of flame mushroomed into the night
sky. Seeing his chance, Tanner sprinted towards them. Pull the bolt back and
forward, fire. Another man fell. A third fumbled at his rifle as Tanner swung
the butt of his own into the man's head. The soldier cried out as Tanner kicked
a fourth to the ground, all before one had fired a shot.
Shouts now from the surrounding houses. Tanner yelled,
'Into the trucks, quick!' Pistol shots - Nielssen and Chevannes. Screams from
another man. Tanner grabbed Lance Corporal Erwood's shoulder. 'Get into the
second truck and fire that bloody Spandau from the tailgate!' He searched
frantically for Anna and the professor. 'Get in! Get in!' he yelled, when he
saw them running, crouching, towards the first truck.
'Sir,' he shouted to Nielssen, 'drive the second
truck!' Nielssen nodded, Tanner grabbed Anna's arm, shoved her towards the cab
of the first and hastily jumped in beside her, shoving his two rifles between
them. Of course, it was dark in the cab and the German Opel was unfamiliar. He
hadn't thought of that. 'Jesus Christ!' he muttered. 'How do you start this
bloody thing?' He fumbled around with his feet in the pitch-dark footwell,
hitting pedals but there was no starter knob on the floor.
Frantically, he slapped his hand against the dashboard, finding what
felt like a button, but although he pressed hard, nothing happened. Chevannes
now clambered in next to Anna.
'Come on, Sergeant!' shouted Chevannes as Tanner
inadvertently switched on the wipers. '
Merde!
Get us out of here!'
Troops were now running out of the surrounding houses,
shots cracking apart the night. Another button on the far right of the
dashboard. What was it? The choke? From the back of the truck, their own men were
firing and then, behind, an engine roared into life and the truck drew
alongside.
'I can't get it started!' he yelled across to
Nielssen.
'Isn't there a key?' Nielssen shouted back.
'No, nothing!'
'Use a piece of wire, or a screwdriver - it's above
the ignition button.'
Tanner's mind raced as bullets smacked into the side
of the truck, then feeling into his haversack he fumbled for his tool wallet
and found what he was searching for - a set of five different-sized reamers.
The first he tried was too large for the hole. 'Bloody hell,' he muttered, his
heart hammering, then felt the second slide into the ignition. Immediately a
small red light came on, revealing a sign that said 'ANLASSER' and what had to
be the ignition button. Pulling what he hoped was the choke on the far side of
the dashboard, he then pressed the button and the engine coughed into life.
Yanking the reamer hard upwards to keep it in place, he shouted across to
Nielssen, 'Tell Erwood to spray the other vehicles, sir!'
A bullet cracked through the windscreen. Anna
screamed, and Tanner thrust the truck into gear, released the handbrake and the
Opel lurched forward. 'Professor?' he shouted. 'Professor, are you there?'
'Yes! Just go!'
Chevannes fired his pistol through the window. More
bullets rang out. Another thumped into the door and died. Tanner found the
headlights, switched them on. Slits, just slivers of light, but enough. Out of
the church square. Ahead, troops kneeling in the road. Tanner stamped on the throttle.
Another bullet cracked through the top of the windscreen, and ripped through
the metal roof, and Anna screamed again. Tanner charged at the men. Figures
scattered but he felt a thump as he hit one, heard a scream. Feeling in his
pocket he passed a grenade to Anna. 'Here!' he said. 'Pull the pin and throw it
out the window. Can you do that?'
Anna nodded, pulled the pin and tossed it away. It hit
the framework round the door and rebounded on to Tanner's lap. 'Jack, I'm so
sorry!' she cried. Half looking ahead, half fumbling in his lap he found it and
hurled it out as hard as he could.
Behind him the men were still firing. He was conscious
of the Spandau's short, clattering bursts. Ahead the second bridge.
No time to blow that.
He dropped a gear, turned,
rumbled across the short expanse, then drove left towards the valley road that
led north. More shooting ahead, and Tanner ducked every time a bullet pinged
nearby. From the back someone yelled. 'Keep going, Tanner, faster!' screamed
Chevannes, then leant across Anna, grabbed
Tanner's Mauser and fired off five rounds in quick succession.
Changing up a gear, Tanner pushed down again on the
accelerator as they reached the edge of town. He was vaguely aware of Chevannes
reloading the Mauser and preparing to fire, then suddenly realized what the
lieutenant had done. 'No, sir, don't fire!' he shouted.
With a loud crack, the rifle jerked upwards, Chevannes
screamed and his head and shoulders were flung backwards. Anna cried out as
Chevannes threw his hands to his face, howling wildly. Even in the faint
moonlight, Tanner could see blood on the windscreen.
'Sir!' shouted Tanner. 'How bad is it? How bad is it,
sir? Anna, try to calm him down. See if you can find out what he's done. I
can't stop now.' He dropped down a gear once more, pressed hard on the throttle
to bring up both revs and speed, then changed up. The town was now behind them,
the shooting receding. From behind him he could hear desultory shots, and an occasional
second-long burst from the Spandau.
Chevannes groaned.
'Keep still,' said Anna, her voice calm once more.
'Rest your head on my lap.' She took his shoulders and straightened him. 'Try
to bring your legs up.' Slowly, he did so until he was lying across half the
seat and her. 'There's a lot of blood,' she said. 'He needs dressings as soon
as possible.'
Tanner hitched his pack and webbing from his back and
waist as he drove, shoved them on to his lap, then began taking off his German
tunic. 'Here,' he said, 'have
this. I'll stop as soon as I can.' Then he called, 'How are you in the
back?'
'Tinker's hit, Sarge,' McAllister yelled, 'but I don't think it's
serious.'
'Yes, it bloody is!' called Bell. 'My arm's agony!'
Almost too late, Tanner saw the road ahead fork. 'Which way?' he said,
bringing the truck to a halt.
'I can't get to my map,' said Anna.
'Hold on,' said Tanner. With the engine still running, he jumped out of
the cab and ran towards the other truck.
'What's happened?' asked Nielssen.
'We don't know which way - left or right? Do you have your map, sir?'
'A moment, Sergeant.'
'Any casualties?'
'I'm afraid so - one.'
'Who?'
'Your lance corporal. Erwood. Shot in the head.'
'Dead?'
Nielssen nodded.
'Damn,' said Tanner. 'He was a good man. Is he still in the back?'
'No, he was hit as he was trying to get in. Hepworth's been on the
Spandau. What about you, Sergeant?'
'The lieutenant's hit in the face. He needs dressings and attention
soon. And Bell - not serious.'
Nielssen looked at the map and passed it on. 'We need to turn right.
We've a bit of a climb, then in thirty kilometres we reach the main road to
Andalsnes. How much fuel do you have?'
'About a quarter of a tank. Not enough.'
Nielssen grinned. 'We've some spare cans in the back
and the gauge is reading over half a tank. And that is enough.'
'Let's keep going,' said Tanner. 'It would be good to be on the main
road by first light.' He paused to get some field dressings, then hurried back
to the cab. Passing the bandages to Anna, he pushed the stick into gear and
rolled forward.
Hauptmann Wolf Zellner had seen the explosion before he heard it: a
bright orange glow lighting the sky to the east. A moment later, the report.
Then a sickening feeling swept over him. An almost speechless von Poncets had
immediately sent a signal to Vinstra. A quarter of an hour later the truth was
revealed: around fifteen men, dressed in German uniforms, had infiltrated the
town and stolen two troop carriers. And the bridge had been blown to pieces.
On hearing this news rage gripped him, rage he feared
he would not be able to control. Staggering outside, he walked to the water's
edge, picked up a large rock and hurled it at one of the moored dinghies. The
boat sank, until all that remained was a length of rope disappearing beneath
the water.
Zellner watched it. His rage had abated slightly but
he was now overcome by the oppressive weight of despair.
Tanner
, he thought, and hurled another
rock into the lake. Somehow he would have his revenge. 'I swear it.'
May Day, 1940 - Wednesday - and as the dawn rose to their right, the
sun gleaming over the mountains amid a cloudless sky, the signs were that
summer had indeed arrived.
'Damn it,' said Tanner. 'What we want is a bit of rain and low cloud.'
The speed with which winter seemed to have passed had surprised him. 'What
happened to spring?' he asked Anna.
She laughed. 'We don't have one. Winter then summer. Now it's summer.'
Tanner glanced down at Chevannes' bloodied head, wrapped in an
assortment of stained bandages and torn strips of lining from a German tunic.
'Stupid bugger,' he said.
Chevannes moaned.
'What happened to him, Jack?' Anna asked him, the Frenchman's head
still resting in her lap. 'Was there something wrong with the rifle?'
'He put a clip of French ammunition into a German breech. The French
rifles use a fractionally smaller cartridge than the German ones - but it's
enough to bugger up the firing mechanism. When he fired, the bolt sprang back
and hit him in the face. He should have known, but in the heat of the moment -
well, he'll have a whopping scar to remind him not to make that mistake again.'
They had emerged into a deep, narrow valley, with
mountains towering steeply at either side. Tanner whistled as he craned his
neck to admire one of the most breathtaking stretches of scenery he had ever
seen. Then, glancing at his petrol gauge, he saw the tank was almost empty.
Chevannes moaned again, louder this time.
'Jack,' said Anna, 'we need to stop. He needs
attention.'
'We'll pull in at a farm. Perhaps we can find out
what's happening.'
They reached a settlement called Lia, another
collection of farmsteads nestling beside the river. The grey, tired fields of a
week earlier had already been replaced by lush green pasture. Approaching a
brightly coloured red farmhouse with clean white wooden fencing, Tanner slowed.
'This looks smarter than most.'
'You think they will have a wireless?'
'That's what I’m hoping.'
The farmer and his family had been asleep but they
seemed untroubled to be roused prematurely by two trucks of fugitive troops
pulling into their yard. As the men soon gathered, they had not been the first
to arrive there over the past couple of days: since the fighting at
Otta had ended, troops had been streaming past, most by train, but a
fair number in trucks and even on foot. And while the farmer had a radio set,
he made it clear that the news announced on the wireless had told him nothing
he couldn't see with his own eyes; the British were evacuating. 'You're the
last,' he told Nielssen. 'You'd better hurry.'