Authors: Andrew Mackay
Sam stared at his sister as if he she was a stranger. He could barely conceal his contempt and loathing. He knew that a few of the older girls at the school had German boyfriends and he had wondered whether Alice had followed this growing trend.
Alan swallowed bitterly. He could feel the bile rise at the back of his throat. He knew that what Alice had said was the truth. He had seen the Police move along the jobless and homeless ex-soldiers who clustered in pathetic and pitiful groups around the Square. Unwashed and unwanted. Many of them were crippled by war wounds. They were a painful reminder of the humiliation that Britain had suffered. Out of sight out of mind. If people could not see them then it made it easier to forget about the defeat.
“Thanks for your present, Alan,” Alice said, stretching up on her tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.
“My pleasure.”
“I’m going out to the garden to try it out. Are you coming?”
“We’ll be along in a minute.”
Alice walked out of the room. She looked down at the skipping rope that she was holding in her hand with disbelief. How old did Alan think she was? Honestly.
The sniper round had entered slightly below von Schnakenberg’s collarbone narrowly missing his lung and had exited just avoiding his shoulder blade. He had nearly died from massive loss of blood. Von Schnakenberg had spent two weeks in hospital fighting for his life and it had been touch and go as to whether or not he would make it, but he had pulled through. In the meantime the Army in Hereward had been leaderless. It had drifted around like a ship without a rudder. Every single officer above the rank of major had been either killed or wounded. The Army in Hereward had coped but Army Headquarters in London had decided that one of the contributing factors that had led to the Remembrance Day Massacre had been the unequal balance of power in Hereward and so von Schnakenberg had been promoted to generalmajor and he had been given command of his own brigade. The news was a welcome morale booster to both von Schnakenberg and to his men. Although Schuster would remain officer in command of Hereward, he would no longer be able to give von Schnakenberg orders. Instead he would have to “liase” with him as an equal partner and discuss what they had to do rather than dictate and give orders.
“Gentlemen, it is a pleasure to see all of you here tonight. I must confess that for several days I was uncertain as to whether or not I would ever see any of you ever again!” Von Schakenberg looked out over the sea of familiar faces that filled the length and breadth of Hereward Cathedral Hall. “With the arrival of fresh reinforcements from the Fatherland we are now at full strength and at last we will be able to face our enemies on an equal footing!” More cheering from the troops.
He topped up and raised his champagne glass. “Gentlemen, please fill your glasses and join me in a toast.” The officers filled their glasses and stood up. “The brigade, the Army and the Fatherland!” The officers repeated the toast.
“Three cheers for the Generalmajor!” Alfonin shouted, “Hip-Hip-Hooray!”
After the cheering had died down von Schnakenberg turned around to face Alfonin. “Thanks for welcoming me back, Nicky.”
“My pleasure, sir.” Alfonin hesitated for a second. “Sir, I wonder if I could have a word with you?”
“Certainly, Nicky. Pull up a chair,” von Schnakenberg invited.
“In private, sir, if I may.” Alfonin leaned in close.
Von Schnakenberg nodded. Alfonin led the way out of the hall, with von Schnakenberg following, shaking hands with well wishers, being introduced to new officers under his command and pressing flesh like a Mafia Don. Von Schnakenberg’s eyes opened wide in surprise as Alfonin entered the Ladies’ toilets. “Alright, Nicky, why all the cloak and dagger?”
“Because what I’m about to tell you sir, is only known to three people. Me, one other and now your good self. And because what I’m about to tell you may well end up getting all three of us killed.”
“Go on.” Von Schnakenberg was intrigued. He leant back on a wash hand basin and crossed his arms.
Alfonin took a deep breath before he continued. “Sir. Not all of our men were killed in the Cathedral. One of them survived without a scratch.”
“Who?”
“Private Eggers, sir. I was his platoon feldwebel. He served under your brother.”
Von Schnakenberg winced at the mention of his brother. “Continue.”
“Eggers was tending the wounded lying on the Cathedral floor when he heard the burst of Schmeisser fire which cut down our men. He poked his head out from behind a pillar and he caught a glimpse of the man’s back as he walked away.”
“Who was it?”
“An S.S. officer, sir.”
“For Christ’s sake,” Sam’s voice dripped with disgust, “I don’t believe it.” He pushed himself from the wall and started steaming towards the entrance to Hereward Cathedral Hall like a runaway train.
“Sam, wait!” Alan futilely tried to grab his arm, but Sam shrugged him off as if he was shrugging off a fly.
“Oh hello, Sam,” Alice flashed a perfect pearly white smile and turned to the man standing next to her. “Sam, I’d like you to meet a friend of mine. Norbert, this is my brother Sam.”
Sam stared at the man whom Alice had introduced. Norbert Ulrich was six foot tall and had blue eyes and blonde hair. He looked like a model from an S.S. recruitment poster or a specimen from a German Secondary School Biology textbook. A perfect example of Aryan Manhood. Sam looked at him as if he was from another planet. He simply couldn’t help himself.
Norbert clicked his heels together and gave a slight bow. “I’ve heard a lot about you, Sam. I’m glad to finally meet you. It was very generous of Bishop Rathdowne to invite all members of the German Armed Forces to attend the annual Hereward Cathedral Christmas Dance.” Norbert held out his hand. “I understand why many people disagreed with his decision, Sam.”
“Sam!” Alan hissed in his ear.
Sam shook his hand in slow motion. His lips were pulled back to reveal his teeth and gums which resembled that of a corpse in the final stages of rigour mortis. If you could read my mind you would n’t be smiling, you German bastard, you’d be pissing in your bright, black shiny jackboots.
“And this is Alan,” Alice smiled.
“Pleased to meet you,” Alan said, shaking Norbert’s hand. “Excuse us,” he said, placing a hand on each of Sam’s shoulders and turning him around to face the dance floor. “We promised a couple of girls a dance. We’ll see you later. Alice. Norbert.”
“Alan.” Norbert clicked his heels and bowed again.
“Save a dance for me,” Alice called after him.
“Of course.”
“See you later, Sam,” Alice shouted after her brother.
“Yes, Sam,” Norbert added. “We have a lot to talk about.”
Sam did not respond.
“Roberts, you whore! What are you doing with that Nazi bastard?” The question was hurled across the length of the dance floor. The band stopped playing. Everyone stopped dancing. All eyes turned towards the door.
“Edwards…” Sam hissed out the name like a snake. “That does it…”
“Sam! Wait!” Alan urged. He hurried after Sam as he quick marched towards the door. He knew that Sam was spoiling for a fight. He was ready to fight Edwards, the Germans and the whole world if necessary.
“Edwards!” Sam barked as he halted in front of him with legs splayed and hands hanging loosely around his hips in the classic pose of a Wild West gunfighter.
“Ah, Sam Roberts, the Whore’s brother, I presume.” Danny Edward’s cronies laughed sycophantically. They were well used to the role of playing the appreciative audience to Danny’s class clown antics.
Danny Edwards was six foot two and was built like one of the brick sheds on his farm. He played tight head prop for the St. John’s Academy 1
st
XV Rugby Team and he had the cauliflower ears, scars and abrasions and various other war wounds that accompanied that position. Edwards was a Day Pupil and he was in Fourth Year, the same year as Sam and Alan. He had also gone out with Alice earlier on in the year, but she had broken off the relationship at the end of the Christmas Term. Edwards had not accepted the break up gracefully. Although Sam also played in the Firsts as a flanker, they were not friends and at best they could be described as acquaintances.
“Edwards, take back what you just said,” Sam said menacingly.
“I won’t, Roberts. Your sister is a Hun whore and you know it,” Edwards sneered, drilling a hole in Sam’s chest with his forefinger.
“Take it back right now, Edwards,” Sam snarled, flexing and unflexing his fingers. “This is your last chance. I won’t ask you again.” He took one step forward.
“Who’s going to make me?” Edwards stepped towards Sam.
“I am.”
“Oh yeah,” Edwards looked contemptuously at the lone figure of Alan standing behind Sam. “You and whose army? You and your little boyfriend here?” Edward’s friends laughed like a pack of hyenas. He looked over his shoulder at his three burly friends standing behind him and then returned to look at Sam and Alan. It was painfully clear that Sam and Alan would stand little chance in a fight against Edwards and his gang. They were outnumbered two to one.
“Him and my army.” Paul Mason stepped between the two quarrelling boys.
“Sir?” Sam said in surprise.
“Captain Mason?” Alan echoed.
“Keep out of this, sir,” Edwards warned. “This is none of your business.”
“I’m making it my business.”
“Get out of the way.”
“You’re both students at my school and you’re my responsibility.”
“Responsibility? What would you know about responsibility?” Edwards asked. “ My father and my two elder brothers marched out in your company under your command with you and the Fusiliers in September. You came back. They didn’t. How do you explain that?”
“I don’t have to explain my actions to you,” Mason said defensively as his cheeks began to burn.
“And I don’t have to explain my actions to a coward who abandoned his men.”
Mason’s uppercut landed right on the base of Edward’s chin and lifted him clean off the ground. He flew through the air in a graceful arc and landed flat on his back on the dance floor. His legs and arms were as floppy as those of a rag doll and his eyeballs rattled around in his skull. He was out cold, unconscious and completely dead to the world.
There was a stunned silence. Everyone was too shocked to react.
“Take Edwards away,” Mason ordered Edward’s lackeys in an ice cold voice. “Tell him when he wakes up not to come back. He’s not welcome here.”
Two of Edward’s companions grabbed an arm each and lifted him up to a standing position. They each wrapped an arm around his waist and dragged him towards the main door. He was only just starting to come round. When they reached the exit the boy holding the door turned around and faced Mason.
“This is a warning to all whores and traitors,” The boy snarled. “You haven’t heard the last of this: we’ll be back.”
“I understand why you’re so angry, Sam,” Alan said as he followed Sam out of the dance hall.
“No, you don’t, Al.” Sam shook his head. “Edwards called Alice a whore: he insulted my sister, he insulted me and he insulted my family. He has shamed me and my family in front of the whole town.”
“But Edwards is wrong, Sam. The whole town knows that.”
“No, Al. Edwards is right-Alice is a Nazi whore and the whole town knows it. They’re just too polite to say it. Or maybe they’re just too scared. At least Edwards had the guts to say publicly what the whole town is thinking privately,” Sam said bitterly.
“Now steady on, Sam. You don’t know that,” Alan protested. “You don’t know that for sure.”
“Know what for sure?” Sam asked. “That she’s sleeping with the enemy?”
Alan’s embarrassed silence answered Sam’s question.
“Look, Al. I’ve had enough,” Sam said. “I’m tired of sitting around on our backsides doing nothing. I’m tired of watching the Jerries swan around with our women acting as if they owned the place and I’m tired of waiting for orders from Edinburgh. As far as I’m concerned, the Christmas Truce is over.”
“What about Ansett?”
“Bugger Ansett.”
“What about our orders?”
“Bugger our orders,” Sam swore. “I don’t remember signing on the dotted line to join Ansett’s chicken shit outfit.”
“We swore an Oath of Allegiance, Sam,” Alan said seriously.
“Yes, we swore an oath, Al, but to the King, not to Ansett. He could be a crazy vigilante for all we know. A loose cannon. Anyway, how do we know that he’s following orders from the Free North? How do we know that he’s got a radio? Have you seen it? Because I certainly haven’t. We only have his word that he’s following orders from Edinburgh. And I’m afraid that I’m not willing to put my life on the line on the basis of his word. And neither should you, Al.”
Alan said nothing. He was still trying to digest what Sam had said. “What have you got in mind?” He asked finally.
Sam’s eyes lit up. He had been confident that he would be able to win Alan over and he was pleased to discover that his confidence had not been misplaced. “I propose that we go freelance.”
The two figures slipped through the back streets of Hereward. They were dressed completely in black and kept to the shadows. They paused at each cross roads to make sure that there were no German patrols. They glided through the streets like ghosts and made no sound.
At last they reached their destination. A two story semi-detached brick house in an up market part of town. The first of the pair lowered a tin to the ground and carefully prized open the lid with the blade of his lock knife. The figure dipped a paintbrush into the tin and started painting foot high letters on the wall. In the mean time, his companion had taken off his haversack that he had carried on his back. He took out a jerry can and two objects wrapped in paper. He unwrapped the objects that were revealed to be two beer bottles made of glass. He poured the contents of the jerry can into each of the beer bottles until they were both full to the brim. He then stuffed a soaking rag into the neck of each.