Колин Форбс - Tramp in Armour

He tried to put himself in the position of the pilot. What would he do? At his first sight of the tank inside its huge box of hay he would hardly believe his eyes, so he would circle in again for a closer look, which could well be the operation he had just completed. Then he would circle again and come in for a third and final look before he wirelessed the commander of the column. At least that’s the way I’d handle it, Barnes told himself grimly. Had the plane gone away? He strained his ears for the sound of its engine. His wound was throbbing badly this morning and lying in that fixed position he could feel his right knee stiffening, the knee which had struck the underwater rock. No, the bloody plane hadn’t gone away – it was coming back now for the third time round. It flew directly over the haystack and headed straight for him, waggling its wings from side to side. Why the waggle? Was it a signal? He felt stiff, clammy and sweat-soaked. They were trapped and all they could do was to wait inside the trap, hoping that these alarming manoeuvres of the plane had some other explanation. It passed directly over them and turned back to follow its familiar course. Still counting, he watched the endless column of vehicles move past to the west.

It was only ten minutes later when he was still waiting for a plane that never reappeared that he grasped the fact that Bert had not been spotted. For over an hour he refused to accept the idea completely, expecting that at any moment the haystack would be surrounded, but still the column rolled past and still the Mandels patiently witnessed its progress. Just how many Panzers did the Germans possess? He made a rough-and-ready estimate of what they had seen since leaving Etreux and then doubled it, arriving at the conclusion that the German High Command must be deploying three or four full-equipped Panzer division in northern France. [4] Barnes underestimated. General von Rundstedt’s Army Group A deployed seven Panzer divisions – over two thousand armoured vehicles. The BEF complement was one tank brigade and one tank regiment. A tap on his back told him that Penn wanted to speak.

‘I thought you might like to know, Sergeant, that I’ve got ants crawling all over me and cramp in my leg. It’s nothing to worry about, mind you, but I knew you’d want to know.’

‘Good of you to keep me informed, Penn.’

‘I’ll be issuing regular bulletins from now on.’

The ants were crawling over Barnes, too, crawling inside his uniform. He had first felt the tickle of their tiny bodies when the plane was flying over, at the very moment when they had to lie as still as death. Since then he had been constantly aware of this minute enemy. Lying full length in the ditch there was no way of ejecting them and by now the tickling sensation had invaded the lower part of his body, crawling over his stomach and his groin until he thought that he would go mad if this went on much longer. Penn tapped him on the shoulder again.

‘I haven’t heard anything recently… what’s that?’

‘The end of the column’s gone, I think. A staff car’s just stopped…’

‘It’s probably the general – they always ride at the rear of the column!’

‘The officer’s just gone into the house with the Mandels. It shouldn’t be long now – the driver’s stayed with the car.’

Fortunately, Barnes was too far away to hear the conversation which had preceded the Mandels’ return to their home, otherwise his mind might have been racked with anxiety.

Outwardly Mandel showed no traces of alarm as the staff car slowed down and then stopped. His expression was sleepy, the hands by his sides limp, but he sensed that just at the moment when he had thought all would be well fate had dealt him a bad hand. The major who sat by his driver’s side was immaculately dressed, his uniform newly pressed, the peaked cap resting squarely on his head. He stared down the road after the tail of the Panzer column when he first spoke, presenting them a profile which might have been carved out of stone. His French was highly guttural.

‘I trust that you are now convinced of the invincibility of the German Army after what you have seen?’

‘We could hardly fail to be,’ Mandel replied quietly.

‘Good, good.’ The major stood up, got out of his car, closed the door, and stared down at Mandel from his great height. ‘You still have plenty to eat?’

‘We have sufficient for the moment, but as to later…’ He spread his hands and dropped them.

‘And to drink?’

‘For the moment, just enough.’

‘Good, good. Aren’t you going to ask me inside? I may even furnish you with a certificate saying you are reliable citizens. That would come in useful when the next column arrives. There have been cases of French civilians firing on German troops and some commanders are a trifle hasty in their judgement.’

Without a word Mandel turned and led the way into the farmyard, his face still expressionless. When he reached the front door he stopped to let his wife and Etienne enter first and then waited for lie German officer. The major had stopped in the middle of the yard to take a cigarette from a gold case. While he lit it he looked towards the remnants of burnt hay.

‘I see that you have had a fire here very recently.’

‘It started just before your column arrived – two of your men very kindly helped us to put it out.’

‘That does not surprise me – in spite of what the lying British propagandists say the German soldier is always chivalrous. Now you will be able to tell your friends the truth in future.’

Mandel made no reply and the officer stood for a minute looking round him while he smoked. Gazing at the haystack he pointed with the cigarette.

‘It is a good thing something like that didn’t catch fire -that would be a tragedy for you, I’m sure.’

‘We take care not to smoke near it,’ said Mandel, feeling it wiser to make some reply.

‘Ah well, we must not keep your good lady waiting. And I’m sure she dislikes smoking inside her house.’

He threw down his smoking cigarette among some pieces of straw which began to burn almost at once. Seeing that there was no danger of the fire spreading Mandel walked after the German and found him standing in the kitchen looking at the framed decoration above the mantelpiece.

‘The Croix de Guerre! I am in the presence of an old soldier then. I imagine you earned this fighting in the last war?’

‘Probably at the same time as you obtained the Iron Cross on your tunic,’ Mandel replied politely.

The officer glanced at him quickly, fingering the cross. Marianne stood by the table, her arms folded over her chest as she stared out of the window across the fields. Mandel wished that she had gone upstairs but he was aware that she was staying in the hope of keeping down the temperature. By her side Etienne gazed into the fireplace. The major spoke abruptly, his voice harsh.

‘You said you had plenty to drink. Since my men so kindly helped you to put out the fire I think they should be suitably rewarded. Would you not agree? Two or three bottles of cognac would be acceptable, I’m sure.’

So that’s it, Mandel thought, he’s after loot. And they make a man like this an officer. Since he’s a heavy cognac drinker his temper is probably uncertain. I’ll have to watch this carefully.

‘I have no cognac, Major, but possibly a bottle of wine or two? Would your men prefer red or white, do you think?’

‘They would prefer cognac.’ His voice was a whiplash now. He stood very erect, his nostrils flared, his eyes glowing. ‘Since you say you are running short we will give them three bottles only, which is a meagre enough reward. Had the fire spread this house might have been burnt down. And understand this, my men are here to fight a war – not to help profiteering French farmers save their capital!’