Колин Форбс - Tramp in Armour

‘A car is coming along the road from the west at high speed. It may be Jacques, but I think you should hide.’

Mandel led the way out of the farmhouse and across a field with his torch, stopping as they reached a large haystack close to the road.

‘Wait behind here until I call you. It is rather too early for Jacques but one never can tell – he drives like the devil. If it is him, I will come out and shout.’

‘Should he know we are here?’ queried Barnes.

‘The last time he was here he spent the night with my brother who lives at Fontenoy, a village close to Beaucaire. But he did not sleep much – he was up half the night with some friends. They tied a piece of telephone wire across the road just high enough to catch a motor-cycle rider. The Germans always send such patrols ahead and they caught a fish. At seventeen and a half he has killed his first German, the young devil.’

‘Pretty risky, isn’t it? You might get reprisals.’

‘Like the last one, this war will last four years and we shall get many reprisals, and Jacques will join the Army soon and will kill many more Germans. But it is spirit like his which will save France. Now, I must go. And don’t mention any of this in front of Marianne – she doesn’t know and sometimes she understands a little English!’

They could hear the car’s engine as Mandel hurried away, the engine of a car being driven at recklessly high speed, and now the headlights were coming closer. Penn’s voice whispered in the dark.

‘These people seem all right.’

‘Yes, you want to forget about Lebrun and his gang. It’s people like the Mandels we’re fighting for. Keep well in – I hope to God this is Jacques.’

Jacques was more mature than Etienne, more heavily-built., and he had the face of a monkey, a monkey with jet-black hair. His eyes were intelligent and quick-moving and Barnes took to him at once as he shook hands all round with a firm grasp.

‘Uncle has told me about you, Sergeant Barnes. The Germans are in Abbeville with their Panzers. I have just come from that town.’

‘How did you manage to get here past the Germans?’ Barnes asked quietly.

‘By knowing the side roads very well, by keeping my eyes well open, by asking friends on the way what the situation was.’

By keeping his eyes well open. They were large eyes and they had the same look of the devil in them which Barnes had detected in Etienne, but they were bolder, more challenging, and now they seemed humorously to challenge Barnes to call him a liar.

‘So you came most of the way by side roads?’

‘No, Sergeant.’ Was there a hint of mockery in this young man’s expression? Barnes thought so as the lad went on. ‘I came most of the distance along the same main roads the Panzers have used, but I turned on to side roads to avoid roadblocks.’

‘There are a lot of road-blocks?’

‘There are three – all outside Abbeville. But you should not go through Cambrai, They have set up some kind of headquarters in the town hall and there is a curfew at sunset. But no one takes any notice of it because they have so few troops to see that their orders are carried out.’ He grinned. ‘Even so, your tank will not be welcome in Cambrai.’

Damn! thought Barnes. I wish Mandel hadn’t mentioned Bert to him. I’m sure he trusts too many people. He hesitated. It didn’t seem quite the thing to cross-examine Mandel’s nephew in front of them all. Marianne was washing up and Reynolds was helping her while Penn sagged in the armchair. Mandel finished lighting his pipe and laughed.

‘Go on, Sergeant Barnes, ask him questions. He expects it!’

‘So apart from Cambrai and the three road-blocks the road to Abbeville is open?’

‘It was for me this evening. I took side roads to miss the road-blocks and Cambrai but otherwise I came straight here. It was easy.’

‘Are there many Germans in Abbeville?’

‘The town is full of their tanks and guns.’ He frowned, his black eyebrows close together, moving swiftly like a comedian’s. ‘That is not quite correct. Most of the tanks and guns were on the north side two days ago and I haven’t been to that district since. There is a curfew, too.’

‘When does the curfew start?’

‘Half an hour before sunset and it goes on until half an hour after dawn. They have said they will shoot anyone they find outside during the curfew but that has not happened yet. I could take you towards Abbeville,’ he added hopefully, ‘and then you could turn north to Boulogne. The Allies are in Boulogne.’

‘I should damned well hope so. What about German aircraft – are there a lot about during the daytime?’

‘Yes, there are, but they fly very high. If there were many of you I think they might see you, but not just one tank if you are careful. There are many miles where you do not see any Germans except for the occasional supply column. And they will not be expecting you in this area,’ he pointed out shrewdly.

‘Thanks, Jacques. There may be some more, questions I’ll think of to ask you – you’ll be staying here for the night, I suppose?’

‘No,’ interjected Mandel quickly, ‘he will be staying with my brother at Fontenoy, but there is plenty of time to ask him as many questions as you wish.’

It wasn’t a matter of more questions to be asked, but now he knew that Jacques wasn’t going to spend the night at the farm, Barnes’ mind was filled with foreboding, driving away in a flash the soothing effect of the food and the wine, forcing his tired brain to weigh and calculate just when he had hoped that for a few brief hours at least he would be able to relax, to recuperate from the terrible strain of the events of the past two days. The lad was probably loyal: Mandel seemed confident enough and the Frenchman was no fool. But was it only a question of loyalty? Supposing he went out again tonight with his friends on one of those wild escapades, that he was captured and interrogated, possibly even by the SS? Since there was nothing he could do about it he smiled amiably.

‘That’s all right. I’ve asked all the questions I can think of for the moment.’

Mandel offered them two bedrooms but Barnes firmly refused, saying they would sleep outside by the haystack in case the Germans arrived unexpectedly, and he suspected that Mandel was secretly relieved at his refusal. Before they left the house the farmer said that they must listen to the news bulletin and Barnes was interested to see that he automatically tuned in to London as though he regarded that source as being the most reliable at the moment. They listened in silence as the calm detached voice of Stuart Hibberd began speaking.-

‘…fighting in Boulogne.’

It was after eleven o’clock when they opened their bed-rolls which they had carried back from the tank after parking it, and they laid them out behind the haystack. As they arranged the blankets the moon was coming up and Barnes welcomed this pale illumination since it would make their watch on the road easier; he was by no means convinced that the Germans would announce their arrival with warning headlights. Firmly, he gave Penn his instructions.

‘You-get to bed and stay there – you’ll have little enough sleep as it is.’

‘When do I go on duty?’

‘You don’t – I’m sharing it with Reynolds.’

‘And may I ask at what hour reveille will be blowing?’

‘At dawn – four o’clock on the dot.’

‘That’s five hours away, which means you’d get two and a half hours’ sleep each. It’s not good enough. I’m afraid you’re in for a touch of insubordination – I’m doing my whack.’

‘And you’re due for a whack on the head if you don’t shut up. Get down and stay down – that’s an order, Penn. If I need you, I’ll wake you.’