Read Online The White Guns (1989) by Douglas Reeman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Douglas Reeman
Tags: Historical/Fiction
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through the guardrails and jumped down on to the pier. By the time he had climbed up the crumbling slope Meikle had left the jeep and was studying the day's progress. The narrow track had widened, and even part of the buried gateway had revealed itself.
But he said, 'They'll have to work faster than this!' He returned Marriott's salute. 'You've read your orders?'
'Yes, sir.' It must have sounded like of course.
Meikle snapped, 'There may be problems. You are to find and rendezvous with the ship in question, board her, and if necessary take control. She is said to be carrying German servicemen who have already been listed as war criminals.' He saw Marriott's expression and added, 'What – didn't you know there were such creatures?'
'I don't see what difference that will make, sir!' Why did this man always manage to rile him so easily, to make him feel clumsy and foolish?
Meikle said abruptly, 'Intelligence have reported that the Russians already know about this ship. I want no incidents, no confrontations. Whatever we may think about their methods, and not without some justification I can assure you, the Russians are our allies, right? The ship is their headache.' They both turned as a squad of tired-looking soldiers crunched along another winding track of cleared rubble with a mixed assortment of Germans following in single file. The latter had their hands on their heads and had been stripped of their weapons and equipment.
A tough-looking sergeant held up his hand and halted the weary procession, then stamped his heels together and saluted.
'Prisoners, sir.' He spoke like a man who was beyond surprise or disappointment. ''Idin' in a pump 'ouse. I'm takin' 'em for interrogation.'
Meikle looked thoughtfully at the 'prisoners'. Most of them were old enough to have served in the Kaiser's war, and their uniforms were ill-fitting and threadbare. The remainder were just boys of around fourteen. One of them was sobbing and holding his cheek.
The sergeant glared at him.' 'Itler Youth, that one, sir. Spat at Roberts, my lance-jack over there, 'e did. Little bastard!'
Meikle said coolly, 'Volksturm, Sergeant. Their equivalent of the Home Guard. Any weapons?'
'Nah, sir, ditched 'em probably while they waited a chance to sabotage somethin', I shouldn't wonder.'
Marriott watched the soldiers, especially the one called Roberts. He had the feeling that but for the sergeant the lance-corporal might have shot the lot of them.
As if reading his thoughts the sergeant lowered his voice and said, 'Roberts lost all 'is family in the blitz. Not the chap to spit on under the circumstances!'
Surprisingly the soldiers nearby broke into broad grins. But, for men who had been killing the enemy because they were ordered to, and had seen their friends die or be sent home to Blighty as broken things, it was a taut margin. Like the MGBs' guncrews, here, where the Germans had surrendered under a soiled white handkerchief.
Meikle nodded. 'You did right, Sergeant. I shall say as much to your CO. Now take them off to the MPs.' He met the sergeant's gaze. 'All of them.'
As they shambled away Meikle said, 'Something troubling you again?'
Marriott said, 'I don't think so, sir.' But it was a lie. His own father, desperate to do something for the war effort, had joined the Home Guard. He was probably the same age as the veterans he had just seen. He thought of Evans's comment. Suppose they had lost the war? What chance would men like his father have stood against Tiger tanks and dive-bombers?
Meikle saw Lavender peering at his watch and said dryly, 'With him around I don't need an alarm clock.' The mood changed just as quickly. 'Be off with you. The pilot boat will see you clear.' He sniffed the breeze. 'Sea Harvester will begin work tomorrow.'
They both looked at the listing wrecks, their sides already in shadow. It required no imagination to picture what the divers would find in the bombed
But he said, 'They'll have to work faster than this!' He returned Marriott's salute. 'You've read your orders?'
'Yes, sir.' It must have sounded like of course.
Meikle snapped, 'There may be problems. You are to find and rendezvous with the ship in question, board her, and if necessary take control. She is said to be carrying German servicemen who have already been listed as war criminals.' He saw Marriott's expression and added, 'What – didn't you know there were such creatures?'
'I don't see what difference that will make, sir!' Why did this man always manage to rile him so easily, to make him feel clumsy and foolish?
Meikle said abruptly, 'Intelligence have reported that the Russians already know about this ship. I want no incidents, no confrontations. Whatever we may think about their methods, and not without some justification I can assure you, the Russians are our allies, right? The ship is their headache.' They both turned as a squad of tired-looking soldiers crunched along another winding track of cleared rubble with a mixed assortment of Germans following in single file. The latter had their hands on their heads and had been stripped of their weapons and equipment.
A tough-looking sergeant held up his hand and halted the weary procession, then stamped his heels together and saluted.
'Prisoners, sir.' He spoke like a man who was beyond surprise or disappointment. ''Idin' in a pump 'ouse. I'm takin' 'em for interrogation.'
Meikle looked thoughtfully at the 'prisoners'. Most of them were old enough to have served in the Kaiser's war, and their uniforms were ill-fitting and threadbare. The remainder were just boys of around fourteen. One of them was sobbing and holding his cheek.
The sergeant glared at him.' 'Itler Youth, that one, sir. Spat at Roberts, my lance-jack over there, 'e did. Little bastard!'
Meikle said coolly, 'Volksturm, Sergeant. Their equivalent of the Home Guard. Any weapons?'
'Nah, sir, ditched 'em probably while they waited a chance to sabotage somethin', I shouldn't wonder.'
Marriott watched the soldiers, especially the one called Roberts. He had the feeling that but for the sergeant the lance-corporal might have shot the lot of them.
As if reading his thoughts the sergeant lowered his voice and said, 'Roberts lost all 'is family in the blitz. Not the chap to spit on under the circumstances!'
Surprisingly the soldiers nearby broke into broad grins. But, for men who had been killing the enemy because they were ordered to, and had seen their friends die or be sent home to Blighty as broken things, it was a taut margin. Like the MGBs' guncrews, here, where the Germans had surrendered under a soiled white handkerchief.
Meikle nodded. 'You did right, Sergeant. I shall say as much to your CO. Now take them off to the MPs.' He met the sergeant's gaze. 'All of them.'
As they shambled away Meikle said, 'Something troubling you again?'
Marriott said, 'I don't think so, sir.' But it was a lie. His own father, desperate to do something for the war effort, had joined the Home Guard. He was probably the same age as the veterans he had just seen. He thought of Evans's comment. Suppose they had lost the war? What chance would men like his father have stood against Tiger tanks and dive-bombers?
Meikle saw Lavender peering at his watch and said dryly, 'With him around I don't need an alarm clock.' The mood changed just as quickly. 'Be off with you. The pilot boat will see you clear.' He sniffed the breeze. 'Sea Harvester will begin work tomorrow.'
They both looked at the listing wrecks, their sides already in shadow. It required no imagination to picture what the divers would find in the bombed
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