Day of Vengeance (12 page)

Villiers-sur-Oise

The centre of Villiers-sur-Oise was built around a shop-lined square. The church, a large stone edifice fringed with leering gargoyles, ran along the south side, throwing the war monument and a few scrubby bushes into permanent shade. The monument was a poignant composition of two soldiers in greatcoats, one fallen and the other holding aloft a billowing flag with the inscription,
‘A Nos Enfants Tombés sur le Champ d’Honneur
1914-1918
’.
An afternoon shower had transformed the packed earth of the deserted square into a sea of mud punctuated with cloudy, yellowish puddles and water still ran like tears down the statue.

On the north side of the square, rain dripped slowly from the faded green-and-white striped awning rolled down to protect the shop window of Mme Francette’s ‘La Mode Anglaise’. Rain had washed down the municipal noticeboard that shielded the public conveniences from view, staining the poster for one night only,
‘Jojo Bouillon et son Orchestre’
! The rain drained through the gutter in front of the Boucherie Chevaline with its plaster horse head jutting out above the door and strings of sausages hanging in the window.

“Chez Pierre’s is over there,” Jean-Yves pointed at the
bar-restaurant
opposite, which had chairs stacked on either side of the door. They crossed the square and approached Chez Pierre.
Jean-Yves
tentatively pushed open the door. Inside, row upon row
of gleaming glasses of all shapes and sizes stood behind the bar in a mirrored display cabinet, flanked on either side by countless bottles of alcohol, their names – Calvados, Cognac, Rivesaltes – reading like an alcoholic road map of France. Above the cabinet hung a large black-and-white photograph of an elderly moustachioed man in uniform with the caption
‘Notre Maréchal’
. At a high wooden cash desk to the left of the bar sat a
middle-aged
woman with heavily rouged lips, her hair set in a stiff swirl of complicated curls and rolls. Beside her, leaning heavily on the end of the bar, stood an elderly man with a florid face. A
half-drunk
glass of red wine stood by his elbow, next to an unlabelled green bottle. The man stared at the peeling, nicotine-stained
Liste de Consommations
on the wall, his newspaper folded and as yet unread. Except for a waiter busy laying a table, these two seemed to be the only customers in the café.

Jean-Yves went over to the waiter and murmured something in his ear. The waiter nodded towards a door. Jean-Yves led on and they found themselves in a large kitchen. Three men sitting round a table looked up as they came in. There was a hand-drawn map on the table together with two empty bottles of wine. The oldest of the men, got to his feet, smiled and shook Jean-Yves firmly by the hand.

“It is good to see you again, Pierre,” Jean-Yves said.

“These are our friends from the Network – Bruno, from the village, and you know Dominic, from the Ninth army under General Corap…”

Dominic grimaced. “I was under General Corap… until we surrendered…” he took a gulp of wine, “but some of us fight on.”

There followed a series of endless handshakes and additional chairs were pulled in from the restaurant so the group could gather round the table. Pierre grabbed a third bottle of wine, handed round some more glasses and pulled out the cork. Behind them, two chefs in the kitchen carried on working, chopping away obliviously. Pierre raised his glass in a toast.

“Welcome, my friends. To our success!
Courage!
”

There was an enthusiastic clashing of glasses and Pierre downed his wine in one go.

He turned to Jean-Yves. “It is wonderful that you made it here. Together, we will make history.”

“We were happy to receive your message, Pierre,” Marianne said. “You heard what happened to our friends Ours and Patrice? We thought perhaps the plans would change.”

“Yes, we heard. It was bad luck. I hear those two are tough. They will survive. But now, yes, we will continue with our plan. For us, nothing has changed. We attack tonight. And we must explain everything so you can help us.” Pierre took the wine bottle, refilled his own glass and then topped up everyone else’s. The men seemed to have had quite a lot to drink already. Pierre’s co-ordination was not what it might have been and the wine splashed messily as he poured.

“As you know, the Nazis have taken over the chateau two kilometres from the town – Gottschalk’s headquarters when he is not in Paris. Since the surrender, activity at the chateau has increased. They are also sealing off an area in the valley below – part of the chateau woodland. They have taken over the airfield ten kilometres to the north – there is a squadron of BF109’s there.
We believe all this means that the meeting with Hitler and the top brass is definitely happening.”

“He is here now?” Jean-Yves asked.

Pierre’s eyes widened in excitement, “Gottschalk returned to the chateau last night. We believe Hitler was with him. Everything is in place. Let me show you.”

Pierre pointed to the map.

“This is Villiers-sur-Oise. That way is south – towards Paris. We are there. The airstrip is off the map in that direction. And that,” he moved his finger over to a patch of woodland, “just out of town, is Chateau Villiers.”

“But the chateau itself will be well protected,” Jean-Yves said. “We can’t just launch an attack from the outside.”

Pierre smiled. “We will attack from the inside and the outside at the same time. They are taking food and supplies from the village each morning and each evening. Chez Pierre’s gets daily orders. We will simply drive up in the van, delivering the provisions, and ourselves, into the building…”

“What about weapons?”

“Only explosives. Well disguised. We deliver them into the heart of the building and then leave. Simple.”

“Aren’t they going to be suspicious – surely they will search the van?” Marianne said.

“They are used to us, we have been supplying them for a while now. Anyway, there will only be two of us in the van. Hardly a threat. After we leave, the bomb goes off – boom!” Pierre raised his arms dramatically above his head. “And then we launch the next phase, which is where Dominic and his friends from the Ninth come in.”

Map of the area surrounding Villiers-sur-Oise

Dominic took over. “The French army may have surrendered. But we have not. We have enough comrades from my company to launch an attack through here, where there is still no perimeter fencing,” Dominic pointed at part of the woodland surrounding the chateau. “We have more than enough armed men to mop up and make sure Hitler, Gottschalk and any of his other cronies are dead. My men are already preparing.”

“And we have the element of surprise. When it is done… we melt back into the countryside.”

Jack glanced anxiously across the table at Angus. He was no soldier, but he knew the plan sounded very risky. The prospect of taking on an armed garrison of the SS, which was being reinforced to protect a visit from the
Führer
, with a collection of staff from Chez Pierre and the ramshackle remains of a recently defeated army, did not sound hopeful. It looked like Pierre and his friends were determined to strike when they had the chance, however, and Jean-Yves and Marianne were being carried along by their enthusiasm.

Jack looked round the table. There was steel in the eyes of these men and their confidence was buoyed by alcohol. Jack realised, with dismay, that he wouldn’t to be able to stop them on his own. Not for the first time, he felt he was being dragged along by the course of events and drawn into something that he knew he should have no part in.

“So – what do you want us to do?” Jean-Yves said.

Pierre thought for a moment. “Marianne will ride with me in the van. The presence of a woman will put them at ease. Dominic will command his company through the woodlands that surround
the chateau – I think you should join him.” He looked up at Jack and Angus and then at Sophie. “And of course we need your help as well.”

“Er, hold on…” Jack put up his hands defensively.

Pierre just talked over him. “There is a slight rise in the woodland here.” He pointed at the map again. “From that position you can get a good view of the road from Villiers, the driveway from the road up to the chateau, and the chateau itself. You will be between us in the van and Dominic and his troops further along in the woods. You three should stay together. I will give you my field glasses. You just need to watch. If you see anything that worries you, run to the road to warn us or head through the woods to warn Dominic. Clear?”

Jack didn’t like the sound of this at all. He cleared this throat, “But…”

Everyone looked at him and he felt the blood rushing to his face. “I am not sure – I still think maybe we should wait, er, wait until we have more people…”

Pierre looked at him, his face was flushed with excitement and the effects of the wine, “My young friend, this is the only chance we have. We must strike now. We have a second chance to kill Hitler and free France.” He leaped up, swaying on his feet, “Courage, my friends…” he thrust out his glass, “for France!”

Stake-out

Pierre had described the spot well. There was a rise in the woodland and the undergrowth was sufficiently sparse to give them a reasonable view of the chateau and the surrounding area. They were about a mile from the village, up from the river that meandered through the valley below. A narrow driveway peeled off to the left of the road from Villiers through a canopy of trees which at points formed a dark and verdant tunnel, split here and there by splashes of evening sunshine. It led directly to the chateau, which sat behind closed bottle green, wrought-iron gates. There were sentries posted both at the main gates and at the entrance where the drive split from the road.

The chateau itself was a well-proportioned rectangular structure. It was two storeys high, with a rounded tower at each end and a sharply sloping slate roof. Solid double doors were flanked on either side by large windows, eight on the ground floor in all and nine on the first floor. The roof was set with a series of bull’s-eye windows. At the front, the gravel drive leading from the gates widened into a broad ‘T’, and ended abruptly at the left gable but continuing off from the right end to a low block of outbuildings and stables. The rim of grass around the chateau was neatly trimmed and after thirty metres merged into the woodland.

Jack had found a good position up in an old oak tree. Angus and Sophie lay in a large bush beneath it. He looked out towards
the woods beyond the far end of the chateau. He knew that in there, somewhere, Dominic and his company of men would be waiting, poised to attack. Looking back towards the chateau, he spotted a young deer nibbling on a tuft of grass at the edge of the lawn. Jack raised his field glasses and surveyed each of the windows. He half expected to spot the
Führer
gazing out at him, but he couldn’t see anyone inside the building. At the entrance, two soldiers stood guard. On the roof, two more soldiers chatted. One was smoking and puffed smoke rings up into the still evening air.

“I can hear something on the road!” Angus whispered up from his hiding position.

Jack’s heart jumped. Sure enough, from the road below, he could hear the rough engine of the little Citroën van as it chugged its way up the gentle gradient from Villiers-sur-Oise. Jack turned his field glasses to the road. Between the trees he caught glimpses of the van and the worn red lettering on its side that spelled out, ‘Chez Pierre’. From his position it was impossible to see the driver and passenger, but he knew Marianne and Pierre were in the van. Jack heard the sound of the engine drop as they reached the first checkpoint where the driveway to the chateau led off from the main village road. Jack held his breath. The engine started up again as it was allowed on its way up to the second checkpoint, at the large wrought-iron gates at the far end of the driveway.

The van stopped in front of the gates. Using his field glasses, Jack could clearly see the German sentry poke his head into the van. He walked around the van and looked under it and then returned to the cabin. Jack saw Pierre get out of the cabin and go to the back of the van. He opened the back and the sentry peered
in. A second sentry stood back, one hand on his machine gun, which hung loosely by its strap from his shoulder. The rear of the van was stacked high with boxes – wine, vegetables and meat. The sentry looked at the mountain of provisions and gave a little shrug. He wasn’t seriously expected to search through all of it was he? Pierre looked at the soldier expectantly and then the soldier said something. Pierre pulled down the cover at the back of the van and climbed back into the cabin. The sentry leaned into the cabin again and pointed towards the back of the chateau. The gates creaked open and the sentry smacked the side of the van twice with his hand. The van rumbled slowly through the gate and followed the driveway round to the rear of the chateau. They were in.

Jack’s heart was beating even faster now and the field glasses were becoming damp with the sweat from his hands. He brought the glasses to bear once more on the front of the chateau. Firstly, he looked at the rooftop. The two German soldiers who had been there a moment ago had disappeared. The soldiers had also disappeared from the front terrace. Jack scanned the front of the building to see where they had gone. At the edge of the woods the deer was still there. But, suddenly, it lifted its head and its ears pricked up. Then it darted into the safety of the woods.

Something was wrong.

Jack kept his eye on the edge of the woods and glanced at his watch. Ten minutes to eight. Any minute now, the van should reappear… and just after eight o’clock there would be a massive explosion as the bomb ripped through the building. Then, Dominic and his company of men would break from the woods in an all-out attack on the chateau as any survivors tried to flee
the building. He looked at his watch again and then over to the edge of the woods. He glanced down at Angus in the bush below. Angus frowned and mouthed a silent, “Where are they?” in return. Two more minutes passed. Still nothing. Jack looked through the field glasses again, desperately scanning the chateau, gardens and woods for any sign of life.

Suddenly, he heard a twig snap behind him. He twisted round and the shock of what he saw sent a pulse through his body. Below and about fifty metres behind, a line of German soldiers were creeping slowly through the woods. They were spread out at about ten-metre intervals, among the trees in a long line that stretched as far as Jack could see to the left and the right. They moved forward slowly, guns at the ready. One of them was approaching the thicket beneath Jack, where Angus and Sophie lay, covered in the undergrowth. Jack wanted to scream out to them to run, but he knew to do so would mean instant death. His heart was thumping in his chest like a steam hammer but he tried to stay still. He wanted the great oak tree somehow to absorb him into its vast, ancient boughs. He knew that any disturbance, any movement, would give him away. The soldiers continued to advance – maintaining a disciplined formation as best they could over the terrain. As Jack peered towards them, he suddenly noticed that after the first line of soldiers came a second wave – only twenty metres behind. The entire woodland was infested.

Jack spied the soldier nearest to them. He was only a few metres away now and Jack could clearly make out his face. Suddenly, he stopped right under the tree where Jack was hiding. He looked surreptitiously left, and then right. He undid his
trousers and started to urinate on the tree. Angus and Sophie lay in the thicket next to the tree only feet away. He zipped himself up and moved off as the first line of troops eased past them. Jack looked out towards the road to their right and to the fields in the far distance beyond the outbuildings. It was difficult to see properly, but everywhere he looked he saw German soldiers approaching the chateau. The entire chateau and its grounds were surrounded by two vast contracting rings of German soldiers.

Jack looked on aghast. Emerging from the woodland on the far side of the gardens he saw a straggling band of men in civilian clothes. They had their arms held high above their heads. Behind them, German soldiers, toting machine guns, pushed them forward. In front, Jack could see Jean-Yves and Dominic,
ashen-faced
and terrified. They had been pulled to one side and there was a brief exchange with a Nazi officer. Then the remaining men were lined up, facing the low wall at the front of the chateau, as the two lines of soldiers, which had now passed by Jack, Angus and Sophie, emerged from the woodland and onto the chateau lawn.

Jack scrambled down from his tree and pulled Angus and Sophie up from their hiding place in the undergrowth.

“They’ve caught them. It’s like they knew there was going to be an attack. Look…” Jack pointed through the trees to where they could see a number of the men being lined up against the wall. Sophie and Angus peered forward to where Jack pointed. Sophie started sobbing, “Can you see Mum and Dad?”

Jack grimaced, “I think I saw your dad, Sophie. Your mum was in the van, of course, but it hasn’t reappeared.”

Jack put the field glasses back up to his eyes. It was much more
difficult to see from ground level than from his vantage point up in the big oak tree. The German soldiers now stepped away from the men lined up against the wall, forming a semi-circle around the prisoners.

“Hold on, they’re not going to…” They looked on at the scene in the garden before them and then Sophie turned to Jack in bewilderment.

“Oh God, no…” Jack looked away just as the sound of automatic rifle fire ripped through the evening air. It reverberated through the woodland until there was silence. When Jack looked back up all he could see was blood spattered across the garden wall and a heap of bodies lying on the ground beneath. Sophie turned to Jack and Angus and screamed. It was not a human scream.

She burst forward, but Angus grabbed her arm. She tore at him with her nails and lashed out with her feet, screaming hysterically, but Angus held her tight. He looked over at Jack with horror in his eyes and shook his head. The screams alerted the German soldiers who turned to search out the source of the noise. Jack saw an officer bark an order and point. They had been spotted.

“Run!” Jack shouted.