Колин Форбс - Tramp in Armour

‘I’m sorry – you can search the place. We have wine but no cognac. Not a single bottle.’

The German eyed him grimly. ‘You hid it when the first column came through here. I have little doubt of that.’

Casually, he unbuttoned the flap of his leather hip holster and withdrew the pistol, holding it sideways in one hand, the muzzle pointing towards Marianne. Mandel moved quickly in front of her, while behind him his wife slipped a hand towards her throat. He saw Etienne’s eyes on the heavy poker in the fireplace and almost imperceptibly he frowned, giving a little shake of his head. Knowing that at any moment there might be a tragedy he took the initiative quickly.

‘Major, the cupboard in that corner is full of wine – may I show you and then you can make your choice?’

Slowly he moved towards the cupboard and the pistol turned away from Marianne to point at the wall. Without further hesitation Mandel threw open both doors and started lifting out bottles on to the table. The German waited until a dozen stood in a row and then he put away his gun.

‘That will have to do if you persist in being obstinate. You and the boy – bring all the bottles on the table out to my car.’

They hurried out across the yard, three bottles under each arm, while the officer followed slowly. The driver snapped something at them, indicating that they should store the bottles on the back seat. When they had emptied their arms he leaned over and pulled a greatcoat across the bottles to conceal them. The major had left the yard now and strolled along the road to stand close to the haystack. He looked at it with interest while he extracted a fresh cigarette and lit it in a leisurely fashion. Mandel sent Etienne away to the farmhouse and waited tensely, feeling quite sure that their ordeal was not ended yet. From the direction of Beaucaire a motor-cycle patrol drove up, slowing down arid then speeding away as the officer waved them on. The driver had started the engine of the staff car but the major seemed in no hurry to depart: in fact, the haystack appeared to fascinate him and he began to walk round it as he took short puffs at his cigarette.

Nothing shows, Mandel told himself, nothing shows at all. He cannot possibly suspect anything so why is he taking such a great interest in it? With a tremendous effort he compelled himself to assume an attitude of complete indifference, even going so far as to clasp his hands over his stomach while he looked up at the sky as though checking the weather situation. The major had walked right round the haystack now and he made a small gesture with his free hand. Driving forward, the car pulled up close to the officer who now stood with his back to the road facing the haystack. Again he spoke without looking at Mandel.

‘I do fear that the cognac you so stubbornly concealed is going to prove a most expensive proposition.’

Raising his right hand he aimed with great care, tossing the burning cigarette high in the air so that when it fell it landed out of sight on top of the stack. Then he stood and waited, one hand close to his holster flap, studying Mandel’s face closely. Appalled, the Frenchman showed only the reaction expected. Hanging his shoulders, he gazed at the stack in glum despair, then very slowly he turned away and walked back to the farmhouse, forcing himself not to hurry, hoping that by removing himself from the scene of the conflagration the German would lose interest and go away.

The officer stood watching the top of the stack which was now crackling and sputtering, suddenly flaring up until the entire roof was a crown of flames. Satisfied, he got back into his seat and the car drove off at a high speed.

Only by exerting his will-power far beyond its normal limits was Barnes able to keep himself pressed down inside the ditch. He had seen the German officer studying the stack, he had even seen that he was smoking because now he risked using his field-glasses. But as if some telepathic intuition had been transmitted between them he had understood Mandel’s action when he slowly trailed back to the house. Seen from this great distance the burning stack presented an even more alarming spectacle as grey-black smoke billowed in a huge cloud above the road, and from where he lay Barnes could see red tongues of flame licking their way along the full length of the roof of hay. He felt Penn stirring as Mandel walked away.

‘We’d better get moving – we’ve got to try and put that lot out. We can shoot those two while we’re about it.’

‘Keep yourself down,’ Barnes rasped. ‘We’re not moving till that staff car is well on its way.’

‘You’ve got the machine-pistol,’ Penn protested. ‘And we’ve got our revolvers.’

‘And they’ve got their car, you idiot. As soon as they see us coming they’ll drive off and then be back with half that column.’

It wasn’t only the unit he was thinking of. More important still he had no intention of putting the Mandels into further danger, no matter what the cost. And the cost could be very high.

‘You’re just going to let Bert burn?’ Penn protested again.

‘The car’s off now. No one gets up till I give the word.’

Lifting himself cautiously only a few feet, his body still well-concealed behind the weeds, he watched the car racing away. When it reached the next hill crest and vanished he started running, running as he had never run before, keeping easily ahead of the others in spite of his smallness. The stack was roofed with flames, flames which drove the smoke several feet above the top of the stack. He was drawing close to the conflagration when he heard the power-grab coming across the field, moving forward so fast that the elevated arm was swaying wildly. They were all arriving at once – Etienne with the power-grab, Barnes, Mandel hauling and heaving desperately at a huge coil of hosepipe.

‘Give Reynolds the grab,’ Barnes shouted. ‘I’ll take that hose. Leave this to us – the tank is full of diesel and it may blow at any minute. Get back inside the house.’

‘No!’ Mandel shouted back. ‘Etienne knows how to use the grab. Help me with this hose. It will take all of us to save it. The tank, I mean – the stack is gone.’

Marianne came running forward with several pitch-forks and Mandel told her to drop them and go straight back to the house. It was developing into a horrible muddle until Barnes took charge. Pitch-forks for Reynolds and Jacques. Etienne was left to work the grab. Barnes began to unloop the hose while Mandel fixed the other end to an outlet pipe from a small pump-house. While he worked Barnes was shouting instructions for Mandel to pass on to Etienne.

‘Get Etienne to scoop the burning bales off the top – he’s to drop them well clear of the stack so the men with forks can carry them to the road. But the grab must be used to clear off the burning hay. I’ll hose down the lower walls – we’ll never save the top.’

They worked like demons. As Barnes directed the powerful jet of water on the lower walls he tried to keep an eye on the spread of the fire, scared stiff that at any moment the fuel tanks would go up, wondering whether there had been a blow-back of fire from the top down into the hollow interior, a disaster which might not be seen until the whole stack suddenly burst into flames. And there was high-explosive inside that inferno – seventy rounds of two-pounder shells and ten boxes of Besa ammunition. He was close to the front wall now, spraying his jet in a steady arc, while nearby the grab was scooping up burning masses of hay above his head and throwing them clear. As the scorching bales hit the ground they crackled and spat angrily like live things. The heat was almost unbearable and Barnes was shielding his face with one hand while he held the bucking hose in the other, hardly able to see what was happening as acrid smoke filled his lungs and blinded his eyes. Behind him the men with pitch-forks were skewering the burning bales and carrying them over to the road where they dumped them and then ran back for more. Each bale was so heavy and unmanageable that it took two men to spear one bale and then lift it between them, and unknown to Barnes his corporal had seized a fork and formed a team with Mandel, holding the fork low down because he found it impossible to lift his right arm.