Hammond Innes - Attack Alarm

I left Davidson in a very thoughtful mood. A horrible feeling of responsibility was growing on me. I knew only too well how a journalist’s enthusiasm for sensation can run away with his discretion. Yet I felt there was something here that I could neither forget nor ignore. But I knew I must tread warily. If I went to the authorities, I should only get into trouble without achieving anything. Vayle was in a very strong position in the station. My suspicions, based solely on conjecture, would be laughed at. And it would be little consolation, when the place was in German hands, to be able to say, ‘I told you so.’

There was only one thing to do. I must find out Vayle’s background prior to 1936.

The square was hot and dusty in the glare of the sun. It was past twelve and the Naafi tent was open. I felt in need of a beer. It was stiflingly hot in the marquee, although there were few people there. I took my beer to a table near an open flap. The liquid was warm and gassy. I lit a cigarette.

Suppose I ‘phoned Bill Trent? He was the Globe’s crime reporter. Bill would know how to get hold of the information I wanted. But it would be folly to ‘phone from a call box in the camp. They went through an R.A.F. switchboard. I couldn’t be sure that the operator would not be listening in. I had no idea how strict the censorship was in the station. The nearest call box outside the camp was in Thorby village. To go down there would be breaking camp. This was too dangerous.

I suddenly remembered that we were on again at one. I ought to get my lunch. I was not very enthusiastic. One of the things I disliked about Thorby more than anything else was its messing arrangements. I suppose the airmen’s mess had originally been built to seat about four or five hundred. It now had to accommodate about two thousand.

It would be hot and smelly. The tables would be messy and there would be the inevitable queue. And there would be beans. There had been no other vegetable for weeks.

I had just finished my beer and was getting up to go when Marion Sheldon came in. She looked fresh and cool despite the heat of the day. She saw me and smiled. Before I knew what I was doing I had ordered beer and we were sitting down at my table together. Then suddenly I realised that here was the solution to my difficulties. The Waafs were billeted out and were allowed considerable freedom. Moreover, I felt she was the one person in the camp I could really trust.

‘Look, will you do something for me?’ I asked.

‘Of course. What is it?’

‘I want to get a message though to Bill Trent. It’s rather private and I don’t want to ‘phone from the ‘drome. I wondered if you’d put a call through, to him from the village. I can’t do it myself. We’re tied to the camp.’

‘I would with pleasure. But I don’t think it’s much use. Several girls have tried to get through to London this morning. But they’re only accepting priority calls. I think the lines must have been put out of action by that raid on Mitchet yesterday.’

This was a bit of a blow. I could write, of course. But that meant delay. ‘What about a wire?’ I asked.

‘I should think that would get through all right,’ she replied.

I hesitated. A wire was not quite so private as a ‘phone call or a letter. But it seemed the only thing. ‘Will you send a wire, then?’

‘Of course, I’m off duty till this evening.’

I scribbled it down on the back of an envelope. ‘Please obtain full details Vayle librarian Thorby since thirty-six stop May be of vital importance stop Will phone for results early Friday.’ I wasn’t too happy about it. It would have been so much more satisfactory to have spoken to him. I could only hope that he would read between the lines and realise just how important it was”.

I handed it to Marion. ‘I hope you can read it,’ I said.

She glanced through it. There was a slight lift to her eyebrows. But that was the only sign she gave that it was unusual. She asked no questions. And I was not inclined to explain the situation. Now that it came to committing myself on paper I felt too uncertain to risk any discussion of my suspicions.

She slipped the envelope into her pocket. ‘I’ll send it off as soon as I’ve had my lunch,’ she promised.

‘That reminds me,’ I said. ‘I suppose I ought to go and have mine. I’m on again at one.’

“Then you haven’t much time-it’s twenty to already.’

I got up. ‘What about a drink this evening?’

‘I’d love to. But I’m on duty at eight.’

That’s fine,’ I said. ‘I come off at seven. I’ll meet you here as soon after as I can make it. That is, of course, Hitler permitting.’

‘I hope he will.’ She smiled. It gave me a sudden sense of confidence, that smile. It made me want to stay and talk the whole thing over with her. But I had to get my lunch, and so I left her there, sipping her beer.

The afternoon went slowly. There were no alarms and I had plenty of time for reflection. When we came off at three we tried to get some sleep. This afternoon siesta was now a daily ritual. Without it, I am certain, we could never have kept going. It was easy to see who were the town dwellers and who were accustomed to working in the open air. Micky and Fuller went to sleep on their beds in the hut, not bothering to take off anything but their battle blouse and with at least one blanket over them. The rest of us stripped down and lay out in the sun.

Though I had plenty on my mind, I had no difficulty in going to sleep. We were wakened at a quarter to five. As usual, I felt worse after my brief sleep. It would probably have been more intelligent to rest under cover, but the sun attracted me too much. The sense of leisure was infinite. The thought of the hot, dusty streets of London made Thorby seem for a brief period a holiday camp.

I did not bother to go down to the mess for tea, even though it was the last good meal of the day. The sun had made me very weak and the idea of putting on battle dress and walking down to the square was quite repugnant. What several of us did was to make tea on the site. This was a much better proposition in every way, for the tea in the mess was really quite undrinkable. Then in the evening we would get food in the Naafi.

We were off again at seven and I went straight down to the canteen tent. It was already crowded. Several of the lads from the other site were there. I looked round, but could see no sign of Marion Sheldon. In the end I got myself a drink and went over and joined the others.

I kept a close watch on the entrance, but she did not come. At first I thought she must have been delayed. But by half-past seven I was wondering whether she had forgotten all about it. I began to feel rather peeked. Trevors had joined us and the whole of our detachment was there. The number of bottles on the table mounted rapidly. The place was insufferably hot and beginning to get noisy. I felt out of tune with it and very tired.

Shortly after eight Elaine came in and joined us. I didn’t know how friendly she was with Marion, but I thought she might be able to tell me what had happened to her. But it was rather awkward. She was sitting at the end of the table with Trevors and the two sergeants. I waited, trying to pluck up courage to approach her. But I fought shy of the laughter that my concern about a particular Waaf would certainly evoke.

Then one or two began talking about going to the supper canteen for food, and when they got up I joined them.

As I passed Elaine I said: ‘What’s happened to Marion tonight?’

She looked up at me over her shoulder. ‘Oh, she’s got herself into trouble over something. Four days fatigues. Shall I give her your love?’ There was a wicked gleam in her eyes.

I felt a sudden emptiness inside me. ‘What’s she in trouble over?’ I asked.