Authors: James Holland
At this news Tanner's spirits rose. He thought
quickly. 'With your permission, sir, I'd like to take one of the trucks to the
tunnel, leave Lieutenant Nielssen and the professor, then load up with a few
supplies.'
'Good idea,' said the captain. 'I'll get a couple of my men to help
you.'
The tunnel had been blasted through the steep valley side. It was dark
and narrow, the air close; there was a strong musty smell of urine and soot.
Although most of the waiting troops were already on the train, a number were
milling about at the tunnel's entrance. They were clearly exhausted, faces and
uniforms filthy. Tanner asked a Green Howards corporal if there was an RAP.
'Aye,' he replied, pointing into the tunnel. 'On the
train in the tunnel. Just follow the screams.'
They found the RAP and woke a medical orderly who was
asleep on the carriage steps. 'All right,' said the medic, yawning, 'bring him
in.' Tanner and Derigaux hoisted Chevannes aboard. The stench of medicines and
putrid flesh was overwhelming.
'What are you bringing me?' said a doctor, his
overalls covered with blood.
'A smashed cheek,' said Tanner.
'All right, put him there,' said the doctor, pointing
to a space in the corridor.
At long last
, thought Tanner, as he helped
lay down the lieutenant.
The dank and fetid air of the tunnel was a relief
after the RAP carriage. They pushed on alongside the dimly lit train until they
found the adjutant of the Green Howards. After a brief explanation, the
Norwegians' names had been added to his list.
'You take the train when it leaves,' Tanner told them.
'Thank you, Sergeant,' said Nielssen, 'for everything.'
'What about you?' asked Anna.
'We're going to help the Marines,' he replied. 'We've got to make sure
that that train can get you to the port.'
'But you'll be able to escape in time?'
'I hope so, yes. We'll find you at Andalsnes.'
She looked up at him, biting her lip. 'Good luck, Jack.' She kissed
him, then stepped up on to the train.
He walked back slowly towards the others.
'Cheer up, Sarge,' said Sykes. 'At least you've still got us.'
'Yes, give us a kiss, Sarge,' said McAllister.
'I'll give you a bloody sore gob, if you're not careful, Mac.'
The ammunition train was further towards the tunnel entrance, and
although the quartermaster in charge seemed reluctant to let them on board,
when Tanner produced Lieutenant Lindsay's note of authorization, he relented.
Twenty minutes later, they were back at the waiting truck, clutching a wooden
crate of gelignite, another of grenades, four tins of safety fuse and another
of detonators. Their pouches were stuffed with clips of .303 rounds.
'You took your bloody time,' muttered the Marines' driver. 'Come on,
load up and let's get the hell out of here.'
In the back of the truck, Sykes said, 'He's a bit
jumpy, isn't he?' No sooner had he said that than half a dozen Stukas appeared
over the valley and dived down behind them, sirens screaming.
'That's why, Stan,' said Tanner. 'Bastards are trying
to block the tunnel. Better pray they don't succeed.'
'Better pray Jerry doesn't catch up with us on the
ground neither,' said McAllister.
Sykes grinned. 'If he does he'll have a hell of a
headache after getting through this lot.' He delved into his bag. 'Anyway, I've
got something for you.' He produced a dozen packets of cigarettes.
'Stan, you genius, where did you get those?' asked
Tanner.
'Saw a box of 'em on the ammo train and half-inched a
load.'
The packets were torn open, matches lit and the truck filled with
tobacco smoke. Tanner leant back and exhaled. 'I've missed this,' he said, then
winked at Sykes. 'I'm ready for action again now.'
At the Marines' position they unloaded and reported to Lieutenant
Lindsay.
'A successful trip, Sergeant?'
'Very, sir, thank you,' Tanner replied.
'Now, what had you in mind? The Luftwaffe have had
another crack at that tunnel, I see. Mercifully, it's been quiet enough here,
but how long that will last, God only knows.'
'We need to get a move on, sir, that's for sure.
Perhaps you could show me round.'
'Of course, Sergeant. Follow me.'
It was, Tanner recognized, a naturally strong
position. The sides of the valley were steep and rose sharply from the river's
edge on both sides. Just behind them, a smaller river cascaded down the
mountain sides to join the Lagen, while the valley road and the railway line,
the latter lying above the former, had been cut away from the mountain. To the
north of the railway, thick forest covered the slopes. For an attacking force,
there was only one way any vehicle could pass and that was by either road or
rail. Otherwise, the position could be turned only by infantry.
Tanner was reluctant to be too critical of the
captain's dispositions. He could see the northern side of the valley and the
Lagen, which ran wide and fast, full of melted snow. The mortar team and heavy
and light machine-gun crews were dug in behind hastily built sangars, while the
rest of the men had made good use of what cover there was.
The tour over, Tanner gathered his men. 'What are your
thoughts, Stan?'
'Well, Sarge,' said Sykes, 'we should blow the road in
a couple of places, then set up a few booby traps - wires between trees, that
sort of thing. As soon as they come we want a fairly clear field of fire, but
also to leave ourselves enough time to scarper if it comes to it.'
'So, how far down the track?'
Sykes shrugged. 'Six hundred yards?'
Tanner agreed. 'That should do it. Iggery, lads. Let's
be quick about it.'
********
In Vinstra, Reichsamtsleiter Scheidt was having one of the worst days
of his life. Woken for the second morning running in the early hours, he had
received the shattering news that Odin had eluded them again. Only as the morning
progressed did the extent of their failure become apparent. First, Henrik
Larsen's body had been found, then reports had arrived from General Geisler's
Luftwaffe headquarters that two German Opel trucks had been spotted and strafed
heading northwards. Either Odin was already dead, or he had surely made it to
Allied lines.
Having badgered Engelbrecht's staff all morning, he
was finally granted an interview shortly after noon.
'General, about time, I—'
The general put up a hand to silence him. 'A moment,
Herr Reichsamtsleiter,' he said, put a lit cigar into his mouth, stood up,
walked round his desk, and led Scheidt into the briefing room.
At the map on the wall he paused, took a puff of his
cigar, then pointed to the map. 'Herr Reichsamtsleiter,' he said coolly, 'this
is our difficulty. There are three blown bridges here, at Dombas, and here -'
He pointed to a small village a few miles further north '- at Hauge. This has
considerably slowed our advance.'
'So when do you think your troops will be through?'
Engelbrecht sighed. 'Soon. They'll reach Verma around
seven o'clock this evening, I should think. The Luftwaffe are harrying their
positions continually and bombing
Andalsnes
too.'
'But what about Odin? How are we going to capture him
now?'
'Odin is no longer my concern, Scheidt.'
'General, do you have any idea how important this man
is? You must make another attempt to—'
Engelbrecht turned on him. 'We're not going to do
anything about Odin,' he said, taking his cigar from his mouth and jabbing it
at Scheidt. 'I don't give a damn about him. I'm sick of him. I'm sick of you!
I've already wasted enough time and men on this, running around as you asked me
when I've got a battle to manage. And what do I discover? That your
intelligence is about as reliable as snow in a desert! Now let me tell you, the
enemy are evacuating and it's my task to make sure that as few as possible get
away. So, please, leave this headquarters. Go back to Lillehammer or Oslo or
wherever you want to go, but stop bothering me.'
'You can't speak to me like that!' Scheidt retorted.
He was taller than the general by a couple of inches yet somehow felt as though
he was looking up at him. 'I'm going to speak to Terboven about this. I'm sure
he'll be delighted to hear about your attitude.'
'Save yourself the bother, Herr Reichsamtsleiter. I've
already spoken with him.'
'You have?' Scheidt was incredulous.
'Yes, and believe me, Herr Reichsamtsleiter, he's not
very happy. Not very happy at all. Now get out! Go on! Get out of my sight!'
Scheidt was speechless. He turned, twisting his foot
as he did so, then hobbled from the room.
Sergeant Tanner and his men, under Sykes's imperturbable supervision,
had blown the road and the railway line three times with fifty yards between each
crater. They had also felled a series of trees and linked a web of booby traps
among them so that the moment anyone tried to move the barriers one or more
cartridges of Nobel's finest No. 808 desensitized gelignite would explode in
their faces. In addition, they made liberal use of grenades and safety fuse,
preparing a variety of trip-wires between trees further up the slopes away from
the road.
Since midday, two more waves of bombers had headed over,
dropping loads at either end of the tunnel, then going on to paste Andalsnes,
but the tunnel had not been blocked, Lieutenant Lindsay had confirmed, and the
tiny port was still open for business. A number of Junkers 88s had swept low
down the valley, half-heartedly strafing the Marines' position, but no one had
been injured; men dug in and spread out were a far harder target than a lone
convoy on a narrow road.
There had been no sign of the enemy on the ground,
which had given Tanner and his men the chance to put some finishing touches to
their devil's nest of explosives and booby traps. At well-spaced intervals,
they were now placing single cartridges of gelignite, some propped up on rocks,
others wedged atop mounds of earth and pebbles. All, however, were visible from
a number of vantage-points along the Marines' positions.
'A bloody good idea of yours, this, Sarge,' said
Sykes, as he handed over his last cartridge.
'Waste not, want not, Stan. Got the box?'
Sykes handed it to him.
'I can't resist this.' Tanner grinned. He upended the
wooden box in the middle of the road, then placed the last cartridge on top.
'Now, where's Hep? I need some tracer rounds. Hep?'
Hepworth hurried over from one of the other jelly-
mounds - as the men had christened them - and gave him a handful. Placing them
in his haversack on his hip, Tanner strode forward and, binoculars to his eyes,
gazed down the valley.
Sun glinting on glass, a few miles away. 'They're
coming,' he muttered, under his breath, and glanced at his watch:
19.35
.
His heart began to beat faster, but this time with
exhilaration rather than fear. 'They're coming!' he yelled. He felt in his
haversack, took out his Aldis scope, unravelled the cloth in which it was
wrapped and screwed it on to his rifle.
Sykes hurried over to him. 'How many, Sarge?'
Tanner peered through his binoculars again. 'Eight
trucks - company strength, I suppose.' He watched as the trail of vehicles drew
ever closer. Then, when he judged them to be a little over four hundred yards
away, he pulled back the bolt of his rifle, pushed it into place and said to
Sykes, 'Right, Stan. Keep still.' Resting the rifle on Sykes's shoulder he took
careful aim, inhaled gently, held his breath and squeezed the trigger.
Five rounds slammed into the leading truck, which
swerved off the road, rolled down the side of the hill and crashed into the
river. Tanner's men cheered. They could hear the screams of the enemy troops.
Raising his binoculars once more, Tanner watched men pour out of the remaining
trucks and spread out in a wide arc.