1916 Angels over the Somme (British Ace Book 3) (31 page)

BOOK: 1916 Angels over the Somme (British Ace Book 3)
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“Now get some sleep and I will wake you.”

He gave me a sceptical look, “Promise, sir?”

I smiled, “As an officer and a gentleman.”

While he slept I reloaded both Lugers with fresh ammunition and cleaned the Webley. I was not certain we had finished with our weapons yet. I took out my pipe. I was tempted to light it in memory of Albert but good sense prevailed and I merely cleaned it. I took out the maps and examined them.  I could not read much on the German map but it was interesting. I saw the skull and crossbones at various points and that meant minefields. I even saw some just off Ostend. They would be there to stop the Royal Navy closing with the shore and aiding the infantry. There were some German units marked including, tantalisingly, an airfield. I was not ready to risk that.  I memorised the route and organised our options in my head.

After tidying the contents of the German haversack and the hunting bag I settled down to keep watch.  I had much to occupy my mind from Albert and his sacrifice to Beatrice and my family.  I had no doubt that I would have been posted as missing, presumed killed in action. We had many reconnaissance aeroplanes in that area, it was not far from Ypres. The remains would have been seen. How would they react at home?  I knew that mother would be distraught beyond words when she received the telegram while dad would be his stoical self.  Sarah and Alice, too, would be upset.  Our Kath lived too far away for her to find out immediately but what of Beatrice?  I confess I did not know her well enough to really gauge her reaction.  I suspected she would be strong.  She would shed tears for me but they would be in private. The thought of that fine woman crying for me made me even more determined to get home as soon as possible.

I woke Hutton at one o’clock in the afternoon. He was not happy. “Sir, you said you would wake me.”

“But I did!”

“You know what I mean.  You will only get four hours sleep before we have to leave.”

Sergeant, you need the rest more than I do.  I was being selfish.  If you are fitter then I won’t have to help you.”

We left the woods before dark, at five.  I was taking a chance but I wanted to be in Ostend in the middle of the night.  We would stand out too much in broad daylight. I had a number of plans in my head but until we reached the port and the front line I would not make a decision.  I elected not to tell Lumpy of my plans. I needed him to be flexible. I kept turning as we headed down the trail towards Ichtegem.  He appeared to be walking well. The rest had worked. We had twelve or fourteen miles to go and we had nine hours to cover it.

We kept to the fields around Ichtegem and I was pleased we had done so.  We sheltered behind a stone wall as a German cavalry patrol stopped in the village and began searching the buildings.  It could have been a coincidence but I was convinced that they were looking for us. I checked my watch.  It was seven o’clock.  It would be dark in the next half hour. We waited to see which way they went. They headed for Ostend.  That meant we could not take the main road. My map work came to my aid as I remembered a side road which went through Eernegem and brought us to the east of Ostend.  It was a mile or so further but Lumpy’s ankle appeared to be holding.

“Right we need to get across that road and head due north.  Let’s go before the cavalry returns.”

It was the most nerve-wracking half a mile I have ever covered. It was dark and we were dressed in dark clothes but I was not certain if all of the Germans had gone.  It was only when we crossed to the field on the other side that I knew for certain that they had not left a guard behind. We ran until we were two fields away.

When we found the road leading north we slowed down to catch our breath.  “How’s the ankle, Sergeant?”

“Holding up, sir.  Albert had some foul smelling liniment he applied.  It seemed to work though.”

Albert had been a godsend. I think we would have been captured if we had not stumbled upon him.

The road was the smallest we had yet used.  I would have struggled to drive Lord Burscough’s Crossley down it without scratching the coachwork.  It made the journey more intimidating for there was nowhere for us to hide if we met anyone. Eernegem was a tiny hamlet of just ten houses.  They were centred on a small square.  We risked the centre. We had almost crossed it when the dogs began to bark.  This was no time for an impression of a cat and we hurried on as fast as we could. We had just turned the corner at the edge of the village when I heard voices.  I peered around the edge of a tree and saw huddle of people in the light from a door. I prayed that they were on our side and not the Germans.

Oudenburg was a nightmare. We were just half a mile from its eastern extremities. We could not use the road for even in the early hours of the morning there was much traffic on the road. Much of it was civilian but we did not know the loyalties of these people who were able to ply their trade in the hours of darkness.  We had to resort to the fields again.  However there were few hedges and we had to drop to all fours whenever we heard a vehicle in the distance. My plans to arrive during the hours of darkness looked doomed to failure.

We could smell the sea and we both picked up the pace for our destination appeared to be close.  Then we heard voices. I knew there was a main road from the east which entered Ostend not far from where we were.  The Germans had put a checkpoint there. We were trapped! The only solution appeared to be another dash across the road. It was not yet dawn but I knew it could not be far away. We would stand out if we tried that. We had to move east to avoid the German guards.  Each step took us further from the beach and closer to daylight. Suddenly I spied hope.  There was a large metal drain running under the road.  It was obviously there to take excess flood water under the road rather than washing it out. I pointed to it and we scurried there.

Hutton looked at it, “I’ll never get through there, I am too big. I will be trapped.”

“Let’s try.  Take off your greatcoat and tunic.” When he had done so I said, “Now put your arms in front of you and pull yourself through.”

“If you say so, sir.” He did not sound confident.

He entered the culvert and began to move slowly through.  I gathered our bags and tied them together I entered the culvert. With Hutton it had been his waist which had been a tight fit with me it was my shoulders but I was able to move by wriggling.

“Sir I am stuck!”

Hutton’s voice seemed unnaturally loud in the metal tube. “Ssh! Wriggle your shoulders.  The tunnel doesn’t get narrower; we got this far we should be able to do the rest.  Relax. You are tightening up.” I knew what he was feeling.  It was claustrophobia. I too felt the tightening of the chest and the panic as the darkness seemed to close in. Hutton did appear to be stuck and I was contemplating trying to wriggle back when he began to edge forward again.  Soon he was moving at a faster pace and I tugged our bags behind us.

As I popped out on the other side I felt joy at the release but when I saw the lightening sky my heart sank.  Dawn was about to break.  I handed Hutton his clothes and he dressed. By my reckoning we had about two miles to go to the beach. We would have to risk it. Luckily the field in which we found ourselves was slightly below the level of the road and there were some scrubby bushes which afforded cover. Five hundred yards away from the road I felt that we could break cover.  Dawn was not far away in the east but we, in the west, would still be in darkness. “Run. There shouldn’t be anything before us until we reach the beach.”

Our last obstacle was the coast road which lay before the dunes. I glanced left and right and there was nothing in sight.  We sprinted across the road and flung ourselves into the safety of the dunes.  We had made it.  There, before us, lay the English Channel and, hidden in the darkness less than thirty miles away was England and home.

“You stay here and break out the food.  I’ll go and check the beach.”

I made my way through the dunes.  When I reached the last of them I peered down at the beach.  As I had expected there were obstacles on the beach but there were also signs. Suddenly an early ray of sunlight lit up the sign which was just fifty yards from me.  It was the skull and crossbones.  The Germans had mined the beach!

Chapter 23

Poor Lumpy looked excited when I returned. He had the water and the last of the food laid out on his greatcoat like a picnic from before the war. “Well sir, are there any boats there?”

I shook my head. “They have mined the beach. We are stuck.”

He nodded, “Right sir, then let’s eat.  You always think better on a full stomach and I am sure you will think of a way out of this.”

His confidence was touching; it was misplaced but touching. I ate the last of the food and drank half of my water. Who knew when we might need water?

I looked at our options.  We could head back to the airfield we had passed some miles ago and steal an aeroplane. That would mean hiding up in the dunes and enduring the ordeal of the pipe.  We could head north east along the coast and find a part of the beach which was not mined or we could head into Ostend. Although I did not relish any of them the last one seemed to have the most chance of success.

“We’ll head to the road and wait until dark.  We will have to chance Ostend tonight.”

“Righto sir,” he said cheerfully, “I knew you would think of something.”

We lay hidden in the dunes as close as we could get to the road without being seen. At about nine I heard the tramp of boots along the road. I bellied up to the top of the dunes and peered over.  There was a company of German soldiers heading down the road towards Ostend. I watched as they approached, an idea forming in my head. I saw soldiers running towards the dunes and then rejoining some time later.

I slithered down.  “Quick back towards the beach!” I did not want a peeing German to spot us. When we were hidden behind the next ridge of sand I watched and saw a German drop his trousers and relieve himself where we had just waited. I heard shouts from the road.  The German shouted something and then, pulling up his trousers, ran to join his comrades.

“Follow me!”

We returned to the dunes near the road.  We saw four men running along the road, trying to catch up with their comrades. I raised my head and looked along the coast road. There appeared to be another company marching towards Ostend. I made my decision. I threw Hutton one of the German haversacks.

“Take off your greatcoat.  There is a German one in the bag.” I threw him a field hat.  “Put this on your head and put the hunter’s bag and your greatcoat in the haversack.  We are going to become Germans.”

I slid down to the bottom to make the change easier. The greatcoat came down to our knees and the top of our boots. There was no khaki visible. I strapped the bayonet and the Luger around the outside of the coat. “Give me Albert’s stick and you sling the Lee Enfield around your shoulders.” I looked at Lumpy.  He would pass inspection… at a distance.

We climbed to the top of the dune.  The Germans were level with us.  I saw two men running along the road to catch the column and, to our right, two men were heading towards the dunes.

“Right Lumpy, follow my lead.  We have just had a leak. We will catch up with the Germans but not too fast eh?” As we stepped over the dunes and I feigned adjusting my trousers, I counted on the fact that the Germans would be used to this frequent call of nature. They would see two more comrades running along the road.

I saw that we would be about a hundred and fifty yards behind the column. A Feldwebel waved at us and shouted something. I waved and pointed to the stick. He urged us forward.  We hurried for a few steps and he turned his attention to the two men who were leisurely walking from the dunes.  He began to berate them.

We marched down the road.  It was like that nightmare I had had when I first joined up.  I was walking along a busy street and I was naked.  That was how I felt; naked. We were passing houses on the outskirts of Ostend.  We were nearing the port.  As yet I had not worked out an escape but we were still free and we still had hope. The column ahead slowed up as we approached the intersection.  The road from the left was the one we had followed. I saw another column of Germans coming along that road. The intersection was all confusion as the two columns met.

I tugged at Hutton’s arm and led him along the left hand side of the column away from the prying eyes of the Feldwebel. Some of the Germans viewed us curiously and one said something, I feigned a coughing attack and managed to spit some phlegm into the grass verge.  By then we were beyond the talkative German. I could hear raised voices at the front.  There were officers and NCO’s arguing. I grabbed Lumpy’s arm and we pushed our way through the new German column. A couple of the soldiers shouted at us, I suspect they were swearing. I used the only German word I knew, “Scheiße!” We were pushed and shoved and even punched by one German but we erupted on the other side and found ourselves in an alley. We ran down it and turned right the first opportunity we had. We stopped to catch our breath out of sight of prying eyes.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes sir but that was a bit scary.”

I nodded.  The good news was that we were in Ostend. We could wander around, dressed as Germans and, hopefully, avoid any military police.  I suspected that they would be at the exits from the town to search for deserters. The ones inside the town would be presumed to have permission to be there. “Don’t talk and stay close.”

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