Darkest Hour (35 page)

'But why, Tanner? What has he got against you?'

'I won't dance to his tune, sir. He likes being in
control. He thinks he runs this company, not the OC, and I reckon that, for the
most part, he's right. The OC's putty in his hands. The CSM thinks I undermine
his authority and his influence on the others. And he's a coward, sir. He
always was and he always will be. He'll want to hold back today, sir, keep a
low profile, and avoid too much fighting. I reckon he's worried I'll show him
up.'

Peploe was thoughtful for a while. 'Let me talk to the
girl, and I'll speak with Captain Barclay again. I mean, for God's sake, when
were you supposed to have done this?'

'When I went to look for Captain Barclay last night.
Apparently I jumped on her and the three Frenchmen who jumped on me had seen me
do it.'

'And who are they?'

Tanner shrugged. 'They were wearing civvies but I
never saw their faces.'

'And 'ave you asked whether the OC did want to see
you, Sarge?' asked Sykes.

'No - I hadn't thought of that,' Tanner admitted.
'Christ,' he added, running his hands through his dark hair.

It seemed that Captain Barclay had asked to see Tanner
the previous evening, but in the house, not the bar. Tanner had never shown up,
he told Peploe, another reason why he was inclined to believe the accusation.
Blackstone had passed the message to Slater, Slater had passed it to Private
Hepworth. Slater told Peploe that he had been quite specific to Hepworth that
the OC wanted to see Tanner at Company Headquarters.

'Has Hepworth verified this?' asked Peploe.

'We haven't spoken to him yet,' said Barclay.

'There's no real need to, sir,' added Blackstone.
'Slater knows what he told him. Why would Hepworth tell Tanner any different?'

Peploe eyed Blackstone for a moment, then said, 'And
where's the girl? This Mademoiselle Lafoy? I'd like to speak to her.'

Suddenly Barclay seemed flustered. 'Actually,' he
said, 'I don't know. She was a refugee. But she made the charge and I acted on
it. We took a statement from her and she left.'

'How can you charge Tanner without the key witness?'
asked Peploe, his exasperation evident.

Barclay looked at his watch. 'Look, Peploe, we've got
to form up shortly. This will have to wait until later.'

'Sir,' said Peploe, 'you cannot detain Tanner on the
basis of a statement from an unknown and, frankly, emotionally suspect witness
who has since disappeared.'

'Tanner has been placed under arrest, sir,' said
Blackstone, 'and the MPs will be here at any moment. The captain is merely
following correct military legal procedure in such cases.'

'And I suppose you had nothing to do with any of this,
CSM?'

'Me, sir?' said Blackstone. 'No, sir. What makes you
think that? Has Tanner been trying to pass the blame on to me?' He shook his
head. 'He's unbelievable, that man. And to think I saved his life last night. I
wouldn't have bothered if I'd known what he'd done. He's a disgrace to the
regiment.'

'Well, I don't believe a word of it,' said Peploe.
'He's my best soldier and I want him in my platoon when we go into battle
today.'

'I'm sorry, Lieutenant,' said Barclay, 'but he's being
handed over to the police and that's all there is to it. Whatever his merits as
a soldier, we cannot have rapists among our number.'

'That's bollocks, sir, and you know it. Throughout its
history, the British Army has been littered with thieves, murderers and
ne'er-do-wells.' He glared pointedly at

Blackstone. 'And, as I've said, I don't believe this
baloney for one minute. Let me have him back today, and if we all come through
unscathed, I'll prove his innocence afterwards.'

'He's a rapist, sir,' said Blackstone. 'You have a
moral obligation to hand him over to the authorities and deal with this in the
proper manner.'

'I want Tanner with me today,' said Peploe. 'And,
what's more, if you insist on continuing with this farce, sir,' he said
directly to his commanding officer, 'I will be left with no choice but to
resign my commission immediately.'

Barclay was appalled. 'You can't do that!'

'I can, sir, and I will. I don't want to be part of a
regiment that treats its men so monstrously, or to serve under a man who is
prepared to believe the word of a young girl about whom we know nothing over a
soldier who has repeatedly proven himself courageous, dependable and utterly
loyal, a man who has already been decorated for valour in the face of the enemy
and whose experience will be an invaluable asset today. I was a farmer before
the war, sir. I had no need to join up, but I did so because I believe we have
a moral duty to fight and defeat Nazism. I certainly did not join to find
myself fighting my biggest battles with those on my own side. Now, I don't wish
to add another false allegation, but let me say this: I believe there are
certain elements within this company who are far bigger trouble-makers than
Tanner will ever be. This nonsense has the ring of a personal vendetta about
it, one that needs to be stamped on hard.' He looked straight at Blackstone.

Barclay followed his gaze. 'What the devil are you
saying, man?'

'Quite enough. As I say, I prefer hard facts before I
make any accusation.'

Barclay bit his lip and knotted his hands. 'Rape's a
serious allegation, though. I've got to be seen to do the right thing.'

'In that case, sir, I resign.' He began to unbutton
his webbing.

'Sir, you can't just ignore a charge like this,'
insisted Blackstone.

Barclay groaned and stood up. 'All right, Peploe!' he
exclaimed. 'I'll release him. For now.'

'And I want him to have his stripes back, sir. In
Britain, a man is innocent until proven guilty. So far, Tanner's guilt has not
been established.'

'This is blackmail, sir,' said Blackstone.

'Be quiet, CSM!' shouted Barclay. He went over to a
dresser that stood along one side of the kitchen, picked up Tanner's stripes
and handed them to Peploe. 'I was doing what I thought was right,' he said,
utterly dejected. 'Let's hope Tanner proves worthy of the faith you have in
him, Lieutenant.'

'I have absolutely no doubt that he will,' said
Peploe.

'It's a quarter to ten, Peploe. Get Tanner and make
sure your platoon are ready in a quarter of an hour.' He sighed heavily. 'But
don't think this matter is closed. We've a battle to fight, but afterwards . .
.' He trailed off.

Peploe and Sykes saluted, then fetched Tanner.

'Thank you, sir,' said Tanner, as he took his stripes
back.

'Here,' said Peploe, delving into his pack for his
housewife. 'You'd better get them sewn back on quick. Reckon you can have it
done in five minutes?'

'I'll do it, Sarge,' said Sykes.

'Good. I'll go and sort out the men. Meet us by the
trucks as soon as you can.'

'Thank you, sir,' said Tanner again. He then stood
still while Sykes's nimble fingers quickly stitched one set of stripes, then
the other into the thick serge.

'There,' said
Sykes, eventually. 'Those should hold for the moment, at any rate.'

D Company set off a few minutes after ten, driving out
of the square and up the hill, past the giant Canadian war memorial, erected
only a few years before in honour of those killed during the last war against
Germany. It gleamed proudly in the morning sunshine. Behind, pockets of mist
still hung in the valley. Ahead, young pines sprouted up through the still
pockmarked landscape of Vimy Ridge.

'Thank God for mobile warfare,' said Peploe as he
gazed out from the cab of the Opel.

Tanner said nothing. The humiliation of the past
twelve hours still occupied his mind. None of the lads had said anything to him
but there had been glances and knowing looks. Blackstone had made sure they'd
heard about the rape charge. Peploe had come to his rescue, but Tanner was
conscious that Blackstone had still partly achieved his goal. The men in the
platoon would view him differently - warily, even. The trust he had won had
been undermined, just as Blackstone had wanted.

They were halted in Neuville by 151st Brigade men and
directed to an open area opposite the same massive French cemetery they had
passed the day before. A battery of gunners was already there, vehicles and
guns lined up ready to move. A brigade staff officer ordered them out of the
trucks, while Captain Barclay and his two lieutenants were instructed to take the
Krupp, wheel round and head back up the ridge to Petit Vimy where they were to
liaise with Lieutenant-Colonel Beart, officer commanding, 8th Battalion, Durham
Light Infantry.

Tanner watched them head off. Then, as the rest of the
men were getting out of the back of the Opels, he heard the tell-tale thrum of
aircraft and looked behind to see a dozen Stukas peeling off and diving down on
the ridge. No bombs fell, but machine-guns chattered, the sound clear and
sharp. Tanner saw Ellis and Denning flinch. He hoped Mr Peploe was all right.

'Christ, will you look at that?' muttered Sykes.

'They're bloody slow, though, aren't they?' said
Tanner.

'Not the Stukas, Sarge - all those bloody graves.' He
pointed to the French cemetery. Row after row of white crosses stretched from
the road to the ridge beyond. 'There must be thousands and thousands of 'em.'

Tanner wandered over to the small British cemetery
that lay beside the French one and lit a cigarette. From the village, now that
the Stukas had gone, he could hear tanks, their tracks squeaking. Soon six
French light tanks were turning off the main village road towards them.

As the last one passed, Tanner stepped across the road
behind it and walked to the other side of the trucks. From the far side of the
Opel he could hear a group of men from the platoon talking.

'Well, I still reckon old Blackie's a good sort,' said
McAllister. 'He said that bird swore the sarge had had his way with her.'

'What I don't see is why she'd lie about it,' said
Bell.

'You reckon he did it, then?' said Ellis.

'I dunno,' said Hepworth. 'Maybe it was someone else.
Maybe she got it wrong. It was dark, weren't it?'

Tanner clenched his fists, banged his right hand hard
against the side of the truck, then walked round to confront them. A hush fell
over the men as he stood before them. For a moment he glared at them, his pale
blue eyes staring at each man in turn.

'Sarge, I'm sorry, I didn't mean—' began Hepworth.

'Shut up, Hepworth,' Tanner snarled. 'Listen to me,
all of you. I know what you've heard, so I'm going to say this to you once.
It's true that I was attacked last night and it's true that some French woman
has accused me of raping her.' He eyed them all in turn. 'I did no such thing.
You've had your gossip but I don't want to hear another word about it. Today
we're going into battle and, believe me, when the shells start falling and the
machine-guns are firing, this bollocks will seem very unimportant. What will
matter is making sure we beat those bastards and that you come through it in
one piece.' He stared hard at McAllister. 'Don't believe everything the CSM
says, Mac. Remember this: I've known him a lot longer than you have.'

McAllister's eyes darted about nervously. His cheeks
flushed. 'Sarge—' he said.

'Forget it, Mac,' said Tanner. 'Just don't let me down
today, all right?'

Lieutenant Peploe could hardly bring himself to speak
to Captain Barclay as they drove towards Petit Vimy. He knew the captain was
not a bad man, but he also recognized some fundamental failings in the fellow.
He was impressionable, not a natural leader of men, probably not terribly
bright either. Or, at least, not someone who could think quickly on their feet.
No wonder Blackstone had such a hold over him. That confidence, that breezy
charm and quick mind - those were useful tools for someone like the CSM.

He looked out of the cab at the hordes of refugees
taking cover by the side of the road and in the young woods covering the slopes
of the ridge, then realized that the arrival of the Stukas had, in fact, been something
of a godsend, enabling Lieutenant Bourne-Arton, who was driving, to reach the
little hamlet quickly and just as the enemy attack finished.

The place heaved with troops, most of whom, Peploe
thought, were exhausted. Directed to Battalion Headquarters - the village bar -
they found Lieutenant- Colonel Beart and his battalion officers already in
conference.

'Ah, come on in,' said Beart, ushering them to join
the half-circle gathered around him. 'You're the company from the Yorkshire
Rangers, aren't you?'

'Yes, sir,' said Barclay. 'We've been attached to you
because we've got four Jerry trucks.'

Peploe cringed at the obvious pride with which Barclay
announced this.

Beart smiled. 'Good. Then you can come under command
of Captain Dixon in A Company.' He pointed to an officer several years younger
than Barclay.

'How d'you do?' Dixon shook hands with each man in
turn. 'Good of you to join us.'