1916 Angels over the Somme (British Ace Book 3) (30 page)

“Get yourself in the spare room, Lumpy, and get your head down; just in case anyone comes.”

We went out of the back door and headed for the woods to the north. Albert waved his arm and the dog, whose name I had yet to discover, raced off. This was like going with my dad and George the estate gamekeeper. I had loved hunting. I suspected that if Old Albert hit anything with his gun he would be picking pellets out for a week. Just to the right of the woods was a grassy knoll.  I could see holes erupting from it as though it had been struck by a giant shotgun.  That would be a perfect place for rabbits. Albert, however, led us towards the woods. Suddenly four rabbits broke cover.  The dog had started them.  They were racing towards their burrow.  It was too far for the shotgun but I dropped to one knee and squeezed one shot off.  I chambered another round and took a bead on a large buck. I squeezed again and then fired a third.  I stood.

Albert came and slapped me on the back, “Très bien, Bill.”

As we walked up I saw that I had hit three.  The last had been the worst shot and I had caught the doe in the hindquarters.  The other two were clean head shots.  The old man waved a finger at the dog and mumbled something I could not hear.  The dog had started them too early.

I took out my knife and slit the first one up the middle.  The usual stink greeted me.  I put my hand inside and ripped out the guts.  I quickly repeated it with the other two. Albert made the dog wait until I had finished before he allowed him to wolf down the gory mess of rabbit offal. He took out a piece of string and tied them around the necks of the three dead animals. He dropped them in his hunter’s bag.

He led me to the woods and we began to forage for mushrooms. He started to speak to me as we did so.  There was no need for silence.  We were alone and in the woods.  By speaking slowly, using mime and by my asking questions I came to understand him.

He told me I was a fine shot and I must be a good soldier. I told him I had been in the cavalry.  The horse mime is an easy one. I mimed and told him that I was now a flier.  Once again flying was an easy mime. He smiled and patted me on the back as though it was a good thing.

We had collected enough mushrooms and herbs.  He led me to a dead tree trunk and we sat and smoked our pipes.  It was there he told me that his son had been hunting when the Germans had come.  They had seen the gun in his hands and shot him out of hand. He had been just twenty. It took some time and some elaborate mimes to tell the whole story. I looked at the old man and realised he had aged prematurely. He was barely sixty and yet he looked older. Albert’s wife had never recovered and had died a month later.  Since then he had lived alone.  He kept waving his hand at the land and telling me how many animals he had kept.  He had been a successful farmer.  There were tears in his eyes when he had finished. He had given up on the world but the dog and his farm were all that he had left.

As we trudged back to the farm I realised that not all of the victims of war wore a uniform.

When we woke the next morning I felt like a new man. Albert was a great cook and he had made a delicious casserole of the wild rabbits and mushrooms.  He had served it with mashed potatoes and vegetables from the garden.  The red wine sauce with wild garlic and thyme could have graced a posh London restaurant. The three of us had been able to speak much easier having made the breakthrough the previous afternoon. We all went to bed early. I let Lumpy have the bed and I slept on the floor.  I felt much better the next day after a full night’s sleep.

Although Lumpy was better than he had been he was in no condition to walk and we spent a second day much the same as the first. I don’t think any of us was unhappy about the arrangements.  Albert smiled more and laughed at Lumpy’s jokes.  I don’t think he found the jokes in themselves funny but Lumpy’s mimes were hilarious in themselves.

On the third day Lumpy was well enough to be able to walk around the garden with Albert’s old stick. I nodded to Lumpy, “Albert, we can leave tomorrow.”

“No, no, another two days!” He mimed a pig snorting and then shooting. “Cochon! Bang!” Albert seemed to have become younger since we had arrived.  I think he had just lacked company.

Lumpy laughed when I told him he wanted to go hunting wild pigs. “You know, sir, we could stay here as long as we wanted.”

He was right although I was aware that we might be noticed.  The nearby villagers might be used to his shotgun but not the Lee Enfield. We had discovered that he left four eggs each day and the baker gave him the two or three small baguettes. It explained their miraculous appearance each morning.

It was in the afternoon when our idyll ended.  We heard a vehicle on the road.  It stopped. Albert frowned.  The road was a mile away and we had heard vehicles but they had zoomed down the road and disappeared. We heard this one stop. He went to the door and glanced out. He said, “Boche!”

Lumpy and I dived into the room we had used for sleep. I handed my service revolver to Lumpy and took out my Luger. We both donned our uniforms.  We did not want to be shot as spies. There was loud banging on the door.  I heard guttural German.  Then I heard Albert’s voice.  The voices all became louder as they entered the tiny cottage. We could not hear their words for Albert was speaking too quickly and we had no German.  Suddenly I heard shouts; what sounded like a blow and then a barking. Two sounds happened almost together; there was the sound of a Luger firing quickly and then the blast of a shotgun!  Then there was the sound of four single shots.

I leapt from the room with my gun levelled. I took the scene in quickly and was firing my Luger even as I looked at the devastation.  A young soldier was staring at the bodies on the ground; the dog was dead and Albert was draped over the dead animal.  My first bullet took the young soldier between the eyes.  A sergeant was bringing his rifle around and I fired four times from the hip.  He crumpled to the ground.  The last man standing fired on an empty chamber and I emptied the magazine into his face.

I had just knelt down to see to Albert when the door burst open.  It was the driver of the vehicle. Four shots cracked off as Hutton killed him.

“Take the Lee Enfield and check to see if anyone else is in the truck.”

I put my hand to Albert’s neck.  He was dead.  His chest had been riddled with bullets. His poor dog, which had died defending him lay dead beneath his body.  The officer and the NCO who had been standing close together had been cut in two by the blast of the shotgun. This was now a house of death.

Lumpy came back in.  “No-one outside sir.” He seemed to see Albert and the dog for the first time.  “Poor old bugger.”

We had no time for sentiment although I felt like crying myself.  Albert felt like family. “Get as much food as you can.  Use Albert’s hunting bag to store it.  We do no more foraging from now on.  We need to be invisible.” I waved my hand at the abattoir in which we stood. “They will search for us until they find us this time.  We have to disappear from view. Get yourself the officer’s Luger and as much ammunition as you can.”

“Where are you off to sir?”

“To search their vehicle.”

I took out my penknife and plunged it into the tyres.  I opened the fuel tank and picked up a handful of dust and soil.  I threw it into the tank.  It was not vindictive. If they found the bodies and the vehicle they might try to use it to pursue us. I found some maps and papers on the seat.  They were in German but I thought they might be useful.

I found a couple of German haversacks and grey greatcoats. I jammed them into the rucksacks. There was little else of value and I returned to the farm.  I took one of the German haversacks and slung it on my back. I took the four undamaged water canteens.  I shook them.  They were half empty.  I filled them with Albert’s pitcher.

Lumpy slung the Lee Enfield across his back.  “That’s about it sir.” I handed him the second haversack.

I stood over Albert. “I did not know you long, my friend, but I am honoured to call you a friend.  I hope you and your dog sleep with your wife and your son now. I cannot bury you but I will remember you when I return to England. I will say a prayer for your soul.” I suddenly noticed his pipe. It had been knocked from his mouth when he had been struck. I picked it up.  “Here you are Lumpy, Albert’s pipe.  Smoke this and remember a kind and brave man.”

He grasped it as though it was gold; his voice was thick with emotion.  “I will sir.”

I took two of the field caps from the German privates’ shoulders and jammed those in the haversacks too. While Hutton sorted himself out I rifled the pockets of the dead Germans.  I took all the money they had.  Who knew when it might come in handy? Finally I took two bayonets, their scabbards and their belts and gave one to Hutton.  They might aid any future deception.

We left. I had not planned to leave so soon but fate had determined otherwise. We left through the back. Albert had shown me the track which led north and by passed Dadizele. The first half mile or so was over stones and would make tracking us difficult. We had about thirty miles left to go. Had Lumpy been fully fit I would have risked it in one hop but I did not want to risk his ankle. We marched for three hours before I rested. Albert’s stick gave some support to Lumpy. We had left before dark but I knew that someone would come looking for the German patrol.  I knew that it was my fault.  Someone had either seen or heard us when we were hunting.  Not all Belgians were of the same mind as Albert had been.  There were some who would collaborate.  They might not have know there were two airmen sheltering there but the crack of the Lee Enfield and the stranger wearing khaki would have been clues to my identity.

When we stopped we were just a half a mile from Rumbeke.  There was a burnt out barn in a field close to some woods and we took shelter there.  I could see one or two lights in the village.  It would be better if we were to lie up for an hour and continue later. When I looked at Sergeant Hutton’s face it was drawn and pain ridden.  This was doing his ankle no good at all but we had little choice in the matter.

I gave him a bottle of water. “Drink all of this.  I have another three of them and we still have the Dewar flask full too.  That will be our emergency supplies.”

He nodded, too much in pain to speak.  I grabbed Albert’s hunter’s bag and took out one of the cooked rabbits.  I tore it in two and handed it to Lumpy with half a baguette.  Both needed eating.  I had nuts, fruit and some carrots which we could eat later. By my reckoning we had two days to endure and then we would be at the coast.  I knew, from the maps, that if we headed across country we could be at the coast by dawn.  The problem was we would have two armies, barbed wire and No-Man’s Land to negotiate. We would go the long way.

When Lumpy had finished eating he looked much better.  Some of the colour had returned to his cheeks and he was half smiling.  He took out Albert’s pipe. “Do you think he would mind me having this sir?”

“I think he would be delighted.  He had no family and he liked us.  I think he had been lonely for two years.  He had his dog and that was his only friend.  The baker didn’t even speak with him.  Did you not notice how he smiled and laughed more after that first day?  No, he will look down and smile when you learn how to smoke it.”

“You know sir I saw the way he looked at you.  I think you reminded him of his son or at least how his son might have turned out if he hadn’t been killed. I reckon we gave him a second chance and I am glad we met him.”

I nodded.  I think that Hutton was right. He had helped us and I liked to think that we returned the favour. I checked my watch.  It was ten o’clock.  “Come on, we’ll risk the village.”

After the incident with the German patrol we were wary and nervous as we slipped through.  We could see lights further west.  It was a larger town, Roeselare. We would avoid that. Our route would take us slightly north east and add to our journey but it would take us down quieter roads. We had just one scare before dawn when we heard the clip clop of a horse. We just made it into the ditch when the German horseman rode by.  From the smell he had been drinking and I daresay we could have overpowered him and used his horse.  However another missing German soldier would have pinpointed our position for the pursuing Germans. We let him continue along the road and disappear from sight.

The delay meant we would not get as far as I hoped. Torhout was the same size village as Dadizele and I wanted to avoid it. The map showed a huge forest just two miles north west of the town.  We crossed the main road and headed across the fields. Lumpy was really struggling. I put my arm around his waist. “Put your arm around my shoulder and use Albert’s stick. Keep your weight totally off your foot until we get to those woods.”

He nodded and I felt his fingers tighten around my shoulder.  His teeth were grinding together as he muttered, “I’ll do it, sir, you’ll see.”

It was hard going over the fields.  We had to scramble through bushes and clamber over fences. As dawn began to break we made the sanctuary of the eaves of the forest. We moved within its confines and I waited until I could see no more fields before I stopped. “Sit here while I have a quick shufti around.”

I drew my Luger, now reloaded, and walked in a circle four hundred yards around Lumpy. I found a sheltered spot.  A huge sycamore had been struck by lightning and fallen down.  It covered a large area and there were lots of hiding places within it.

“Come on, Sergeant Hutton, just a few more yards and we can sleep.” I helped him to the dead tree and while he lay down I made a rough shelter from the broken branches.  When I was satisfied that we could not be seen I joined Lumpy.