no. We’ve got to hold them up long enough to give the colonel time to set up a decent defensive position. We’ve got to spread out on the right here where there’s cover and stop them coming down the road. Hickman.’
‘Sir.’
‘Get back to the colonel – he’s in that old school back where we crested the ridge. Tell him that, by the look of it, a battalion of the enemy is on its way towards him and that we will do our best to hold them up before retreating. Tell him that there’s no sign of the Worcesters. There must have been a massive counter-attack on the village. Go now and don’t get shot, man!’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ hissed Bertie.
‘Blimey, no. You can’t do that. That would be desertion in the face of the enemy. You stay here and shoot all the buggers and I’ll be back in a minute.’
‘Ah, good luck, Jimmy boy.’
Jim swallowed. This would be the first time they had been parted since joining up. ‘Keep your head down, Bertie.’ Then he slung his rifle behind his shoulder, scrambled out of the ditch and jumped into what remained of a cottage garden, as bullets spattered against the rubble around him. He ran, head down, sprinting from splintered tree to tree, between scattered piles of stone and brick. Once he twisted his ankle in a pothole and was stung as he lay by a sharp flint, cut out by a rifle shot. Cursing, he scrambled to his feet and ran on, zigzagging as he reached more open ground, until the firing died away behind him.
He had little breath left as he found the colonel, attempting to study a map of Gelveld spread over a child’s desk. He reported his news.
‘How long have we got, Corporal?’
‘No time at all, sir. The captain is very outnumbered by the look of it.’ His heart was in his mouth as he thought of Bertie.
‘Which way will they come?’
‘Straight down this road, I should think. But there are probably enough of them to try and take you from the east, here as well,’ he pointed, ‘to get behind you.’
The colonel gave him an appraising look. ‘Very well.’ He turned his head and shouted. ‘Major Chatwynd, here quickly. You, Corporal, get into the defences here.’
‘No thank you, sir. I’ve got to get back.’ With that, he turned and doubled away. Leaving the CO with his mouth hanging open.
Instead of following the route he had taken to the church, however, Hickman turned to his right and began trotting – he had insufficient breath left to run – through the ruins of the village. If he could approach the Germans from their flank, he reasoned, he could perhaps put up enough firing to make them think that they were being attacked from that direction, giving Yates and his men time to withdraw. Perhaps! If only he had that Lewis machine gun that he had practised with back on the Plain …
Gunfire to his left showed him that Yates’s platoon, or what was left of it, was still in action. Treading stealthily now, Jim advanced towards the firing, taking advantage of houses that had only been partially destroyed by the shelling and treading fastidiously between the fallen bodies that he began to encounter. If it really was a German battalion, then they would have fanned out to enfilade Yates and his small party, so he should see them soon.
And he did. Six Germans in their flat, soft caps were doubling across his front, looking to their right and not towards him. He licked his lips. He would have to fire quickly, as though he was not alone. Heknelt behind a partly destroyed outhouse wall, settled his rifle on the top, took careful aim and fired. And then again and again until he had released six shots. He hit four of the men, the other two falling to the ground and turning to face him. He doubled away, out of their sight, and re-emerged further to their left, when he released two more shots, wounding one of the outstretched Germans, who released a loud cry.
But there was no time for self-congratulation, for a succession of
‘Sir.’
‘Get back to the colonel – he’s in that old school back where we crested the ridge. Tell him that, by the look of it, a battalion of the enemy is on its way towards him and that we will do our best to hold them up before retreating. Tell him that there’s no sign of the Worcesters. There must have been a massive counter-attack on the village. Go now and don’t get shot, man!’
‘Very good, sir.’
‘I’ll come with you,’ hissed Bertie.
‘Blimey, no. You can’t do that. That would be desertion in the face of the enemy. You stay here and shoot all the buggers and I’ll be back in a minute.’
‘Ah, good luck, Jimmy boy.’
Jim swallowed. This would be the first time they had been parted since joining up. ‘Keep your head down, Bertie.’ Then he slung his rifle behind his shoulder, scrambled out of the ditch and jumped into what remained of a cottage garden, as bullets spattered against the rubble around him. He ran, head down, sprinting from splintered tree to tree, between scattered piles of stone and brick. Once he twisted his ankle in a pothole and was stung as he lay by a sharp flint, cut out by a rifle shot. Cursing, he scrambled to his feet and ran on, zigzagging as he reached more open ground, until the firing died away behind him.
He had little breath left as he found the colonel, attempting to study a map of Gelveld spread over a child’s desk. He reported his news.
‘How long have we got, Corporal?’
‘No time at all, sir. The captain is very outnumbered by the look of it.’ His heart was in his mouth as he thought of Bertie.
‘Which way will they come?’
‘Straight down this road, I should think. But there are probably enough of them to try and take you from the east, here as well,’ he pointed, ‘to get behind you.’
The colonel gave him an appraising look. ‘Very well.’ He turned his head and shouted. ‘Major Chatwynd, here quickly. You, Corporal, get into the defences here.’
‘No thank you, sir. I’ve got to get back.’ With that, he turned and doubled away. Leaving the CO with his mouth hanging open.
Instead of following the route he had taken to the church, however, Hickman turned to his right and began trotting – he had insufficient breath left to run – through the ruins of the village. If he could approach the Germans from their flank, he reasoned, he could perhaps put up enough firing to make them think that they were being attacked from that direction, giving Yates and his men time to withdraw. Perhaps! If only he had that Lewis machine gun that he had practised with back on the Plain …
Gunfire to his left showed him that Yates’s platoon, or what was left of it, was still in action. Treading stealthily now, Jim advanced towards the firing, taking advantage of houses that had only been partially destroyed by the shelling and treading fastidiously between the fallen bodies that he began to encounter. If it really was a German battalion, then they would have fanned out to enfilade Yates and his small party, so he should see them soon.
And he did. Six Germans in their flat, soft caps were doubling across his front, looking to their right and not towards him. He licked his lips. He would have to fire quickly, as though he was not alone. Heknelt behind a partly destroyed outhouse wall, settled his rifle on the top, took careful aim and fired. And then again and again until he had released six shots. He hit four of the men, the other two falling to the ground and turning to face him. He doubled away, out of their sight, and re-emerged further to their left, when he released two more shots, wounding one of the outstretched Germans, who released a loud cry.
But there was no time for self-congratulation, for a succession of
Similar Books
