Колин Форбс - Tramp in Armour

Leaving Penn with the Mandels, he followed Etienne to where Reynolds had returned to the tank. The track was stony, barely visible under the grass, and Etienne had to guide them along it to the distant outhouse. He could hardly speak a word of English but frequently he banged his fist on the side of-the turret and said ‘Good, good!’ He was probably just under military age, Barnes decided, very close to his seventeenth birthday, the age which Seft had claimed. But Etienne was very different from the German fifth columnist. This lad was thin and wiry, his freckled face fresh and alert, and there was a took of wicked humour in his eye. He’ll be a devil with the girls, thought Barnes as they reached the isolated building. Etienne jumped down off the hull to open the huge doors.

While Reynolds was driving the tank inside Barnes walked all round the building which stood in the middle of nowhere. Green fields stretched away to the skyline and the only approach was by the track they had driven along. He was on the horns of a dilemma because his small unit was now reduced to two effectives – himself and Reynolds. Leaving Bert here meant either leaving the driver to guard it or not guarding the vehicle at all. Reluctantly, he took a decision which would have horrified his troop commander – he decided to leave Bert on his own for the night. They had to keep some sort of watch through the hours of darkness – for the sake of the Mandels as well as their own – and he knew that in their present state of exhaustion keeping awake and alert all night was impossible. He would have to split the guard duty between himself and Reynolds, so both of them would take turns in watching the road, because it was along the road where any danger would come from. As they walked back with Etienne through the gathering dusk he still wasn’t happy about putting the Mandels at risk by staying with them, but the fact was they couldn’t move another kilometre without rest. On one point he was quite determined: they wouldn’t sleep in the house.

Well after dark they sat down to the hot cooked meal which Marianne had prepared. Roast chicken, potatoes and some green vegetables they didn’t recognize. They ate together at a scrubbed wood table in the huge kitchen at the back of the house, the stone walls hung with burnished copper pans, and the family ate with them. Barnes was famished and joined Reynolds in attacking the meal with vigour, but Penn held his knife and fork and then put them down. Marianne said something and Mandel, sitting at the head of the table, smiled sadly.

‘Your friend can’t eat – it will be his wound.’

‘I’m terribly sorry…’ began Penn.

Marianne spoke rapidly in French, taking up his glass of wine and making insistent gestures that he should at least drink. Then she took away his plate and when she came back Penn was drinking. Nodding to herself with satisfaction, she said something to Mandel, who nodded in his turn.

‘I can manage a gallon of this,’ said Penn.

Mandel spoke to his wife in French and laughed at her reply.

‘She says that as long as he drinks a gallon he will be all right. And, Sergeant Barnes, do stop listening so carefully while you are eating – Etienne is outside watching the road and will warn us if there is anything coming.’

‘It’s just that it’s well after dark. Would he see them?’

‘Of course! These Germans drive through the night with their lamps blazing away as though they owned France. Les salles Boches!’ He made a gesture of cutting a throat with his knife and Marianne frowned, which cause Mandel to laugh again as he reassured Barnes. ‘Do not worry. She is a good woman. Because I want to help you that is enough for her -she wants to help you also. Certainly we are more happy to see your tank than we were to see the others.’

‘The others?’

‘Yes, a tremendous column of Germans which went on and on past our front door – huge tanks, big guns, armoured cars. I think it was a whole division.’

‘When was this?’

‘Six days ago – last Saturday. There have been others since, but they are mainly supply columns. The first one was the big one. Of course, you know that the Germans are in Abbeville?’

‘We had heard a rumour,’ said Barnes slowly.

‘It is true, I fear. We may have a visitor from Abbeville later tonight – my other nephew, Jacques. He comes from Lemont near Dunkirk, where he lives with his father, but at the moment he is living with his married sister in Abbeville. He may have interesting news for you.’

‘How will he get here – you’re behind the German lines.’

‘I know, but this is not like the last war. The Germans are in Abbeville but only with tanks and guns – so if you can get the petrol, and if you are crazy like Jacques, you can drive about as you wish as long as you avoid their road-blocks. He has already made the journey once and he said he might come to see us again tonight. It has become a game with him but do not ask me how he gets the petrol – he will not even tell me. I am sure that he has stolen it from a German store.’

‘He’ll get shot.’

‘Do not look so surprised – it may not be as difficult as you think. The Germans seem very short of troops to guard even important places like petrol and ammunition stores. The footsloggers – is not that the right word – the foot-sloggers have not caught up with the tanks yet. I was a foot-slogger myself once.’

Mandell nodded towards the fireplace where a frame hung above the mantelpiece. Inside the frame hung Mandel’s Croix de Guerre, the medal polished, the ribbon faded. Barnes was frowning as he spoke.

‘I find that hard to believe, Mandel – that they don’t guard their ammunition dumps.’

‘I did not say exactly that -I said that they have not enough troops to guard them properly, as with the petrol. You can ask Jacques yourself when he arrives, he learnt to speak English when he lived with a British family. You see, his father has ideas that one day the boy will be a great international advocate.’

‘What happens when the Germans pass here, Mandel?’

‘They make us stand by the roadside so that we can see how powerful they are.’

‘Very good of them. Where are the nearest Allied troops now? Do you have any idea?’

‘In Arras, I believe. You are going to Arras?’

‘Possibly.’

‘It would be suicide.’ Mandel waved his knife. ‘The German Army is between here and Arras and the closer you get to the front line the more of them there are, naturally. You would do far better to go west beyond Cambrai and then turn north towards the Channel ports. That way you might just meet the Allies before you met the Boche.’

They went on talking and eating but still half Barnes’ mind strained to hear any unusual sound outside the farmhouse. After spending days in the open with the tank he felt nervous indoors and he coudn’t get out of his mind the thought of Bert lying unprotected in that outhouse. He was picking up his last piece of chicken when he saw Penn staring at his fork. Without a word, Marianne went to the oven at the far end of the kitchen and came back with a plate which she put in front of Penn. Mandel grinned.

‘She kept his meal warm because she thought that would happen. When he sees other people eating his appetite returns.’ He raised his glass to Penn. ‘ Bon Appetit!’

While Penn wolfed down his chicken the others tackled their second course, an almost unlimited supply of cheese. Again Mandel returned to the question of which way Barnes should take in the morning and while he spoke Barnes listened without committing himself. Half an hour later they were all drinking strong bitter coffee when Etienne came into the room and spoke quickly, a hint of urgency in his voice. Mandel stood up.