Day of Vengeance (15 page)

“Reload!” Angus shouted.

Jack pawed in the bag to locate a second magazine. They had nearly reached the main gate of the aerodrome. It was flanked by a guard post and a machine-gun emplacement protected by sandbags. Soldiers were running to man the emplacement and to pull the gate shut. Angus fired randomly from the front of the jeep as they powered towards the gate. As if in a trance, Jack squeezed the trigger
again, and he felt the weapon shudder in his hands. His mouth opened and he knew that he was shouting, but he could not hear himself. It was as if he was in a dream, in slow motion, keeping his finger on the trigger, he moved the machine gun, slung at waist level, in an arc from side to side. He was vaguely conscious of people, soldiers, running and diving for cover, as the jeep raced onwards.

“Get down and hold on!” Sophie shouted.

Jack snapped out of his trance. The gate was still half open and it was only two metres away. He dropped back into the seat and clung on. It didn’t look like the gap was big enough, but Sophie kept her foot flat on the accelerator. There was a screech of metal as the jeep burst through the closing gate and onto the woodland track beyond.

“You can drive any time you want,” Angus bawled out joyfully, putting a friendly arm around Sophie.

Jack snatched a look behind. “They’re still tailing us!”

Angus swivelled round in time to see the second Kübelwagen pass through the gates, right on their tail. Behind that, the army truck lumbered and swayed through the checkpoint, belching black diesel smoke and straining to keep up.

“Not good. Do we have any more clips?”

“What’s a clip?” Jack asked.

Angus groaned, “Magazine clips – the long black things with all the bullets in them.”

“There are two more.” Jack pulled them out, handed one to Angus and hooked the canvas bag over his shoulder.

“Right, I’m coming over to join you.” With that Angus clambered over his seat and stood next to Jack in the back.

“What do I do – just keep going?” Sophie asked.

Jack looked ahead. The road was quite good – a rough gritted track. But it was not clear how far the woodland extended or where the road led. Up ahead, Jack spied a fork in the road. A second, much rougher track led directly into the woodland.

“Take the right-hand track. The big truck won’t be able to follow us and we’ll have a better chance of escaping into the woodland. If we join up onto a main road or something, we’ll be sitting ducks…”

“They’re closing…!” Angus shouted. He had already replaced his magazine with a fresh one and was crouching down low on the back seat of the Kübelwagen, resting his gun on the back edge and pointing it at the other jeep which was now only fifty metres behind.

“There are four of them… what do we do?”

Angus replied in his best Rambo, “Spray ’em,” and the muzzle of his gun flamed.

“You missed.”

Suddenly Sophie turned sharply into the right-hand road and the track became bumpier – dust spewed up behind the rear tyres and Sophie grappled with the steering wheel to keep them on the track. She gunned the engine, maintaining full revs and, inside, they bounced around like toddlers on a trampoline. The jeep behind was having similar problems with the rough terrain – they could see it lurching from side to side as the driver wrestled it along the badly pitted track.

Suddenly, they reached the edge of the woodland and emerged onto a broad, low ridge that looked out over a flattish valley.
In the far distance, Jack saw the spire of a church in the middle of a village. The track wound its way down the ridge and then over a small hump-backed bridge set at an angle over some sort of depression at the bottom of the valley. At first, it was not clear why the bridge was there. Sophie slowed down, taking stock of the landscape stretching before them. The engine of the jeep idled.

“What are you doing, Sophie?” Angus shouted. “Keep going or they’ll catch up.” They could hear the other jeep approaching from the woodland behind. In a few seconds it would be there. But Sophie wasn’t listening. Instead, she was staring off into the middle distance, her face set in deep concentration. She moved her head slowly to the right to look at the bridge below them. It was about three hundred metres away and the track followed a single broad bend up to the bridge and then over and on to the village in the distance. She turned her head back to the left and Jack followed her gaze until he realised what she was looking at.

In the distance, a plume of steam and smoke was pumping into the sky, forming a thick cloud that spread in a continuous streak across the landscape. Partially hidden from view in a shallow cutting, a goods train was rattling its way across the valley.

“Come on, Sophie, what are you waiting for?” Angus pressed. He looked round, anxiously gauging the progress of their pursuers.

The enemy jeep emerged from the woodland. Sophie turned round to Angus and Jack in the backseat. She had a strangely calm expression on her face, but her eyes twinkled mischievously.

“Boys – it is time to use the last of those bullets… and then I want you to hold on. I want you to hold on very tightly indeed.”

Jack had no idea what she meant. But no sooner had she spoken, than she was revving the engine of the Kübelwagen one last time and dropping the clutch so the vehicle shot forward. Angus didn’t need to be told twice and once again he let rip with the machine gun from the rear of the jeep. Jack crouched down copying him and the approaching German jeep slewed sideways to avoid the maelstrom. Sophie accelerated as they belted down the escarpment. The track curved before the bridge and rose at a slight angle over the railway. Sophie rounded the bend and careered up to the bridge just as the lumbering black mass of the goods train thundered beneath. It was at this point, with the wagons flashing past that Jack realised, with horror, what Sophie was about to do. She hauled down on the steering wheel and the jeep veered dangerously onto a new trajectory, which launched it from the edge of the road, through a low side wall and into the air. The jeep’s engine, free of the friction of its wheels on the road, screamed as if making a wild bid for freedom. Jack felt himself becoming airborne as they flew off the track. Two seconds later the jeep landed with an eviscerating crunch on top of the penultimate wagon of the train as it emerged from under the bridge. The jeep bounced once, then again, and then slid along the top of the train until it ground to a halt.

For a moment Jack sat in the back seat, on top of the train, in stunned silence. They were in a German army jeep perched high up on a goods train rattling through the French countryside at forty miles an hour. And somehow they were alive. But ahead, Jack spotted a new danger. They train was heading for a tunnel. He was the first to react.

“Get out!” he cried.

The three of them clambered over the back of the Kübelwagen and onto the roof of the train. Jack looked back – they were bearing down on the tunnel at a dizzying pace. They ran to the end of the wagon and from there Jack peered down at the railway sleepers below as they flashed by at a frightening speed.

There was a narrow ladder at the back of the wagon. “We can use that to climb down!” Sophie went first, quickly followed by Angus. Jack turned, put his foot on the ladder and paused. From this position he had a clear view of the approaching tunnel and the jeep perched up high on top of the train. First the engine entered and the smoke and steam blew back out of the tunnel. The wagons followed and suddenly the jeep slammed into the arced brickwork above the tunnel entrance and vaporised. Jack felt Angus haul him down, just as various components of the disintegrating Kübelwagen flew towards him like shrapnel from an exploding shell. Suddenly, it was pitch dark and they were gasping for breath in the smoke and steam of the tunnel. When they emerged, seconds later, there was no trace of the jeep at all.

They clung on to the ladder for dear life as the train rattled on through the countryside.

“What do we do now?” Jack shouted.

“We jump,” Angus replied.

Refuge

Jack rolled over five times before coming to halt, wedged in a large gorse bush. He was scratched and shaken, but otherwise OK. He looked back down the track as the train shrank into the distance. Then, hearing a groan behind him, he turned round. Angus was upside down in a second gorse bush, struggling to free himself. “Get me out of this stupid thing.”

Jack manoeuvred himself over to Angus and tried to support his friend as he disentangled himself from the bush. Without warning, the bush released him and Jack tumbled back with Angus on top of him.

Sophie appeared, looking down at them. “Enjoying yourselves, boys?”

They scrambled to their feet.

“We can’t stay here – they will send a search party down the railway line soon.”

“OK then, how about we scramble up there?”

Jack nodded up at the steep bank of the railway cutting and they started to climb. From the top, they could just see the train wending its way onwards, puffing white clouds into the clear blue summer sky. In front of them lay rolling farmland.

“There!”

Sophie pointed to a dilapidated barn next to a copse at the other side of a broad field. Keeping their eyes peeled, they picked
their way across the field towards the timber-framed building. Angus heaved open the heavy door and looked inside.

“No one. We can hide here for a while.”

One end of the barn was stacked with old hay and the other with rusty farm equipment. Angus pulled out two of the hay bales and they plonked themselves down.

“Anything else in that?” Angus asked. He pointed at the bag from the Kübelwagen that had miraculously remained strapped to Jack’s shoulders.

“Our friend Altenberg has thought of everything.”

Jack pulled out an apple, then some bread and sausage and finally a bar of chocolate. German chocolate.

“Someone’s lunch. And there’s water.”

They divided the contents of the bag between the three of them. The prospect of food had a remarkably energising effect and soon Jack felt his spirits lift.

“Have to tell you, Sophie,” Angus spoke as he chomped through the sausage, “what you just did was amazing… that jump…”

But Sophie had wrapped her arms around herself and was staring at the straw and dust on the bottom of the barn, brooding. It was as if she had not even heard Angus.

Jack reached out tentatively and touched her hand, “You all right?”

She flinched. Her brown eyes were moist and her face was set in a grim expression. After a while, she said quietly through clenched teeth, “I keep seeing it in my head… your friend in the bunker, Pendelshape. I keep thinking they’re going to do the same thing to Mum and Dad.”

It had taken all their energy just to stay alive in the last
twenty-four
hours and Jack had blanked out the dreadful scene of the men being machine-gunned at the chateau… only to be followed by the gruesome spectacle of Pendelshape’s death from radioactive poisoning. Now it all came back to him, as it had to Sophie. He wanted to reach out to her, to somehow share her pain, words came and went through his head, but they all seemed trivial and inadequate.

“We need to try and rescue Mum and Dad…” she said. “Before they kill them.”

Jack wanted to give Sophie hope. She had saved their lives and he wanted to do something for her in return. He put his arm round Sophie’s shoulders. “Sophie, Altenberg said he’d do what he could. He helped us. Maybe he can help them. But for now we need to get to the rendezvous point where Altenberg meets with British Intelligence. It’s our best chance, and the best chance to save your parents too. It’s only a matter of time before the SS rip the countryside apart looking for us.” Jack peered into the bag again. “Altenberg said that he left a map in here…” He rummaged about. “Got it!”

Jack unfurled the map on the floor of the barn. “This way up, I think.” He studied it carefully. “It’s definitely of round here. Look – there’s the airfield… and the railway.”

“Villiers-sur-Oise is right over there in the corner,” Angus added.

“Look. I think Altenberg has marked it. A little village with a church – St Augustine – and he’s marked a circle nearby in the woods, next to the river. That must be the rendezvous.”

“So we must be around here do you think?” Angus pointed and ran his finger along a line on the map. “So that road… I guess if we just try and keep walking in that direction, we’ll hit it.”

“It’s what… maybe five miles east? It’s walkable.”

“Won’t everywhere be crawling with SS? The three of us together – we would be recognised.”

“Well, we certainly can’t hang around here, we’re too near the railway.” Jack stood up. “We need to get going.”

They sneaked out of the barn and walked down the farm track, staying close to the hedge on one side and keeping a watch all around them. The sun glinted down from a clear sky and for the first time in a while, Jack felt a little spring in his step. If they could make it to St Augustine and the rendezvous with the British agents who were working with Altenberg, surely, finally, they would be safe.

After a few hundred yards they crested a low ridge and the road marked on the map loomed into view. It was quite busy. There were people, vehicles and animals moving along the road. There were crude farm carts hauled by horses, carrying entire families with their possessions. There were people walking with suitcases and bags. Mixed in with the refugees, the remains of what seemed like an entire French infantry regiment extended for kilometres along the road – weaponless, bedraggled and defeated. Jack, Angus and Sophie joined them on the road, and nobody really seemed to notice them.

“I think it is that way…” Jack whispered to Angus and Sophie.

“Should we split up or something? We’re more obvious walking together.”

“Good idea, Sophie. Let’s try and stay a few hundred metres apart… without losing sight of one another.”

Proceeding in this way, they did their best to blend in with the plodding stream of refugees. Once, a German army truck nosed its way through the crowd, blaring its horn. Jack put his head down and it rumbled past. It seemed they were well hidden among the other travellers. They kept walking for what seemed like hours. Finally, the traffic on the road started to thin out. The sun was getting hotter and Jack began to feel very thirsty. Then, up ahead he spotted a pitted track that turned off the main road into some woodland. There was a tatty sign by the roadside, with the name ‘St Augustine’ painted in peeling letters. Jack’s heart gave a little jump. He turned round to check on the progress of Angus and Sophie who, as agreed, continued to keep a safe distance. They were still in sight. Jack waited a moment and turned off the road and up the lane. A tiny chapel appeared on the left and, but for a few other cottages, that seemed to be all there was to the hamlet of St Augustine. Jack remembered from the map that he needed to take another track – it proved to be almost completely overgrown – past the chapel and down towards the woods near the river. The trees finally gave some shelter from the burning sun and Jack waited for Angus and Sophie to catch him up. In ten minutes they were together. They were tired and hot.

“It’s quiet here,” Angus said.

“Yes – no one’s around. I’ll check the map, but I think we just keep following this track until it reaches the river.”

They continued walking until the woods became thicker. Suddenly, the track petered out and they found themselves in a small glade. Ahead was a river, the Oise, maybe. The water drifted past languidly, sparkling in the sun. It seemed like they
had found the only peaceful place left in northern France. It was odd to think that a little further north, only a few weeks before, the French army had been ripped apart by Guderian and Rommel’s rampant panzer divisions.

“What a great place,” Jack said.

“You know what? I don’t care – I’m doing it,” Angus said. Jack and Sophie watched in surprise as Angus stripped down to his underwear and then sprinted across the glade towards the river. He launched himself into the water.

Jack grinned at Sophie, “What the hell. You coming?”

They dropped their clothes by the riverbank, and soon all three of them were splashing around in the cool water. It felt incredibly good after the long walk in the sun, and for a moment they didn’t have a care.

After a while, Jack pulled himself up from the bank and sat watching, dripping wet and panting for breath, as Angus and Sophie attempted underwater handstands out in the middle of the river. Jack laughed at them as he towelled himself down with his shirt and slipped his trousers back on, and at first he did not hear the noise of the old grocery van approaching behind him through the woods. The van turned into the glade and stopped. Suddenly Jack heard the engine and, startled, he jumped to his feet and swivelled round. The van bumped its way across the glade and drew to a halt. Jack’s heart was pumping. For a moment he considered running… one word in his poor French would arouse unwelcome interest, but before he could do anything, a man climbed out of the cab. He wore a floppy blue beret over his wavy blonde hair. His loose-fitting work clothes covered a white shirt
that was stained with sweat and grime. He didn’t look much like a grocer. The man was slim and had piercing blue eyes and fine features. But he looked tired and obviously had not shaved for several days. He approached tentatively, and as he got closer Jack realised that there was something familiar about him, but could not think where he may have seen the man before. As he approached, the anxious expression on his face changed, firstly to one of confusion and then, finally, into a broad, exuberant grin. He was now running towards Jack, his arms outstretched. He spoke in perfect English.

“Jack! It can’t be…”

Jack stared back, speechless, then he started to run towards the man, shaking with emotion.

“Dad?”