Young Lions Roar (31 page)

“Sir! Sir!” Ball shouted from the top bedroom window. “Captain Baldwin! Come quickly!”

Baldwin stood up from his position behind a lorry. “What is it?”

“Come quickly, sir!” Ball said with a grim look on his sweat and smoke encrusted face. “We’ve freed two prisoners, sir!”

“Alfredo, come outside with me for a cigarette break,” Mendoza said as he pulled out a cigarette case.

“But, Colonel Mendoza,” Astray raised his eyebrows in confusion. “I don’t smoke and neither do you.”

“You’ll start after what I tell you,” Mendoza said as he wrapped an arm around the shoulders of his old friend, and guided him out of the Hall.

“Dirty bastards…” Baldwin said as he shook his head. “How could anyone do this?” He looked down at the two dirty and dishevelled girls that his
men had recently rescued.

Ball had ordered his men to search the house for anything that they could find to cover the girls’ nakedness. They were huddled together for warmth as well as for comfort with their arms
wrapped around each other. Ball’s men had managed to find a large double duvet that they delicately draped around the shivering girls’ shoulders.

Ball guided Baldwin into another room by the elbow. He was glad to see that his men had formed a protective circle around the girls, as if to shield them from further harm. “We found each
of them tied up… tied up to the four corners of a bed, sir.” Ball found it physically difficult to speak. “They were each spread-eagled naked, sir. We found their torn and bloody
underwear underneath the bed.” Ball gulped.

“Those sadistic SS bastards cut off the dark haired one’s finger, sir. I think that they’ve been… I think that they’ve been…” Ball couldn’t
finish the sentence. His eyes welled up and a large tear traced a track down his dirty cheek.

“It’s all right, Tommy. It’s all right.” Baldwin put a protective hand on the young officer’s shoulder.

“It’s enough to make you join the partisans!” Ball said furiously as he punched a fist into his other hand,

“That’s enough, Tommy!” Baldwin warned with fire in his eyes. He whipped his head around to look through to the other bedroom to see if any of his militiamen had heard
Ball’s hasty words. “That’s high treason you’re talking!”

“High treason, sir? High treason against who, may I ask? Against Joyce’s government? Joyce is only the prime minister because the Germans support him. Joyce is the German’s
creature, their slave, their plaything.” Ball spat out the words with contempt. “And the Germans did this, sir! Germans cut off that poor girl’s finger and Germans raped the
girls! Those dirty German bastards! SS gear is strewn all over the house! Those Nazi bastards kidnapped these two girls and raped them for their own perverted pleasure! If we hadn’t turned up
in time they would probably have killed them!” Ball was talking as fast as a runaway train. “I’m not a Fascist, sir! I joined the Militia because I thought that it was the best
way to bring peace to our country. And as for high treason, sir?” Ball snorted with derision. “Maybe I am a traitor, sir, because it looks like I’ve been fighting for the wrong
side.”

“I will choose to ignore that last outburst, Second Lieutenant Ball; you’re tired and stressed out and you’ve been through a lot this morning. But I warn you not to express
such sentiments in front of your men, and certainly not in front of the Colonel!” Baldwin said sternly. He thought before he spoke again. “We’ll discuss your concerns later,
Tommy. Have the girls said anything?” Baldwin asked.

Ball shook his head as he wiped his away his tearstained eyes with a blood smeared sleeve. “No, sir, they haven’t said anything. They’re too traumatised. The girls
haven’t even told me their names.”

Baldwin shook his head. “They don’t have to, Tommy. I know who they are. They’re two of my students at St John’s; Aurora Mendoza and Alice Roberts.”

Ball put a hand to his mouth. “Alice Roberts? I went to school with her big brother, Angus. Well, Aurora’s father must be worried sick. We must contact him and let him know that the
girls are safe. God knows how long the girls have been missing!”

Baldwin clicked his fingers. “You’re right, Tommy! The Huns have already looted Frampton. I very much doubt that we’ll find a phone here. Quick, get the men back onto the
lorries; we’ll drive back to Hereward and I’ll contact Colonel Mendoza from our barracks.”

“Yes, sir.” Ball saluted and hurried off to gather up his men.

But Baldwin did not manage to make the phone call in time.

Mendoza looked at his watch. It was five seconds to noon. “Alfredo, take cover!” he ordered.

“Wha-?” Astray asked in confusion.

At exactly twelve o’ clock a seven and a half pound mortar round landed on the roof of the main school building. Simultaneously, Mendoza’s briefcase exploded underneath the table
where he had left it. The briefcase contained a one kilogram bomb fitted with a timed fuse, and when it exploded it killed or wounded everyone within a twenty five metre radius. For the next minute
a further fifteen mortar rounds landed on the main school building, and shortly afterwards the entire building collapsed like a stack of cards.

“Cease fire!” Lance Corporal Lopez ordered. As his men secured the mortar, Lopez jumped out of the back of the lorry and walked around to the front where he climbed
into the passenger cab. “All right, Cruz. Let’s go,” he ordered. Within five minutes the lorry had arrived back at the 1
^st
LVE barracks. By ten past twelve the mortar
had been returned to the Armoury without anyone noticing that it had ever left. By a quarter past twelve Lopez and his men were lining up in the lunch queue. No one had noticed that Lopez and his
men had even left the base.

“Did it work?” Greg asked. He was sitting at a table in a dark corner of the ‘Prince of Wales’ pub, drinking a pint of Guinness.

Baldwin nodded. “I think so. Better than we expected.” He took a sip of his Guinness. “By the time that we got back to Hereward the Huns were running around like a bunch of
headless chickens.”

“But did he manage to accomplish the mission?” Greg asked. Although there was no one sitting within earshot he was conscious that it was more prudent to talk carefully in code.

“I don’t see how he can have failed,” Baldwin answered. “The building looks as if it has been flattened by the hand of God himself. There’s nothing left but a pile
of ruins. The Fire Brigade are still searching for survivors but they haven’t found anyone yet, and I doubt that they will. Colonel Griffiths and his second in command, Major Bennett, have
not returned, and they are both officially posted as missing. I’m sure that they’ve both been killed.”

“Who’s been promoted to take his place?”

“Major Mason has been given temporary command. There simply isn’t enough time to brief someone else on our Invasion mission. Anyway, I doubt that Blackshirt Lieutenant-Colonels grow
on trees.”

“When do you leave?” Greg asked.

“Tomorrow.” Baldwin took another sip of his beer.

“Well, be careful up there. The Battling Brits won’t know that you’re one of them. They’ll take one look at your Blackshirt uniform and treat you as a dirty stinking
Fascist traitor. If you’re captured and you’re lucky, you’ll be shot as a traitor immediately; if you’re unlucky you’ll be tortured beforehand and then strung up by
your balls from the nearest lamp post.”

“I am aware of the risks, but thank you for pointing them out so graphically,” Baldwin said dryly.

“You’re welcome,” Greg smiled sarcastically.

“Anyway, I don’t intend to get captured. I intend to sabotage the invasion from within and then return to the Occupied South as a Fascist war hero as per orders.”

“Well, good luck, compadre.” Greg wiped his lips with his hand and stood up to leave. “I’ll see you when you return, God willing. May the Holy Virgin look over you and
guard and protect you, my friend.” Greg kissed the talisman that he wore around his neck.

“Thank you, my friend. Adios, Ramón.”

“Adios, El Bonito.”

Mendoza saw the Militia officer standing outside his house and he felt an ice cold hand grip his heart. He willed himself to keep walking.

“Colonel Mendoza?” the young officer asked. “My name is Second-Lieutenant Ball of the 1
^st
B.U.F. Militia. We have rescued your daughter, sir. Aurora and Alice are
both alive.”

Mendoza’s legs buckled and he would have fallen to the ground if Astray had not caught him. “Where - where is she?”

“Inside, sir. My men are guarding her,” Ball answered.

Mendoza rushed into his house. “Aurora!” he shouted.

“Papa!” Aurora leapt out of her seat and ran towards her father. When she reached him she launched herself off the ground into his arms. Mendoza caught her and gave her a gigantic
bear hug, lifting her off the floor.

There wasn’t a dry eye in the house as the half a dozen militiamen guarding the two girls wept unashamedly at the sight of the emotional reunion between father and daughter.

“You’re… you’re all right?” Mendoza asked with tear filled eyes as he stroked his daughter’s dirty matted hair.

“I’m alive, Papa,” Aurora answered resolutely.

Mendoza nodded his head with understanding. He could imagine what the SS kidnappers had probably done to the girls when they had been captives. “And your finger?”

“I’ll live. I have nine spare,” Aurora said stoically.

“Spoken like a true Spartan.” Mendoza tenderly kissed her on her dirt encrusted forehead. “Alice!” Mendoza held out his arms and Alice tumbled into them. He held her
closely as Alice hung on like a limpet. “I’ll let Sam know immediately. Now, what do you girls want to do? Do you want to wash? Eat? Sleep?”

“A long hot bath, a change of clothes and a hot meal would be the first step, Papa.”

Alice nodded.

“All right,” Mendoza answered. “We’ll talk when you feel that you’re ready.”

“Yes, Papa.” Aurora kissed her father on the cheek and Alice followed her example. Both girls disappeared upstairs.

Mendoza waited until both of the girls had left the living room. “Major Astray?”

“Yes, Colonel?” Astray answered from a position of attention.

“Please could you organise a round-the-clock guard of platoon strength for myself and my daughter. I want a squad of Legiónaries guarding my daughter and myself at any one time.
This is the second time that we’ve survived an SS attack; I don’t think that we’ll survive a third.”

“Yes, Colonel.” Astray saluted and went to the study to phone the barracks.

Mendoza turned to face Ball. “Second-Lieutenant Ball, I am indebted to you, sir, for finding and freeing my daughter.” Mendoza bowed gracefully.

Ball bowed in turn. “It was my pleasure, sir. Any human being would have done the same.”

“How did you find her?”

“We were carrying out a Fighting in a Built up Area exercise in Frampton -”

“The sight of the infamous massacre?” Mendoza interrupted.

“The very same.” Ball nodded his head. “When one of our lorries ran over a land mine.”

“Madre Dios!” Mendoza exclaimed.

“Yes, sir. Approximately sixty of my men were either killed or wounded in the ensuing ambush.”

“My God!”

“But we found and freed the girls, sir, and that’s all that matters,” Ball said grimly.

“Well as I said, Second-Lieutenant Ball, I am forever in your debt. Did you manage to kill any of the kidnappers?”

“No, sir. But they were definitely SS. Both of the girls told us this and they left equipment lying all over the place. They must have abandoned their gear in their attempt to
escape.” Ball paused before he asked the next question. “If you don’t mind me asking, sir, do you know why the SS kidnapped your daughter?”

“I don’t mind you asking at all. After all that you and your men have suffered you have the right to know,” Mendoza said, matter-of-factly. “The SS and the XVII Bandera
of the Spanish Foreign Legión have been conducting a blood feud which started three years ago during the Civil War. We are pursuing a vendetta against them.”

Ball straightened up before he replied. “The SS killed and wounded sixty of my men, Colonel. The enemy of my enemy is my friend. The 1
^st
Battalion of the B.U.F. Militia is also
declaring a vendetta against the SS.”

“May I count on your help and assistance against the SS when the opportunity arises?” Mendoza asked.

“You can count on it, Colonel.”

The two men shook hands.

Obersturmbannführer Ulrich looked at his watch for the tenth time in as many minutes. Five minutes to midnight. Five minutes until Operation Thor commenced. Ulrich shook
his head in disbelief at the events of the last seventy-two hours. The Führer was in a critical condition in hospital, and it was widely whispered that it was fifty-fifty whether he would make
it or not. He had only escaped certain death because he had been in a ground floor toilet when the mortar attack had taken place. The other members of his entourage had not been as lucky.
Generaloberst Rommel, Brigadeführer Herold and General-Major von Schnakenberg had all been killed, as had their second in commands. The commanding officers of the Potsdam Grenadier Regiment,
the Oberschutzen Jaeger Regiment and the 4
^th
and 5
^th
SS Infantry Regiments had also been killed, along with their second-in-commands. What had Monat said little more than two
months ago? Yes, Ulrich smiled as he clicked his fingers, Monat did not think that Ulrich was fit to command the Triple S Brigade and he had been rather put out when Ulrich had agreed with him. But
Monat was dead and he was still alive. And yet again he was the most senior officer in the Brigade, and the de facto commanding officer of the Triple S. Ulrich smiled. Every cloud did indeed have a
silver lining.

“Five minutes, sir,” the glider pilot announced over his shoulder.

“Five minutes, lads,” Ulrich repeated to his seven stormtroopers. He was in command of one hundred and eighty men consisting of one hundred and fifty SS paratroopers and thirty SS
engineers. The (DFS) 230A glider only carried eight troops and after the colossal losses that the Luftwaffe had suffered during the Battle for Crete, the air force had been forced to search high
and low throughout their bases in Europe in order to find twenty-five gliders to transport Ulrich’s strike force.