Hammond Innes - Attack Alarm

‘Hanson! Waaf outside wants to see you.’

I looked up. Fuller, who was acting as air sentry, was standing in the door. ‘Eh?’ I said stupidly as my mind tried to grasp what I had heard quite clearly.

‘Waaf wants to speak to you. She’s over by the pit.’

A sudden flow of new energy coursed through my body. All right,’ I said, and dropped the blanket I had just picked up and went outside.

It was Marion all right. And when I came up to her I could think of nothing to say except, ‘Have you found out when her birthday was to have been?’

I was horribly conscious of the fact that I had spoken very abruptly to hide my nervousness.

‘Yes,’ she said. It may have been my imagination, but it seemed to me that she gave me a rather puzzled look. ‘It would have been on Sunday.’

‘You mean tomorrow?’

She nodded.

The imminence of what I was expecting steadied me. I did not say anything. Tomorrow meant tomorrow morning, surely. To immobilise the fighter ‘dromes must mean a landing from the air and that would almost certainly be carried out at dawn. There was so little time — less than twelve hours.

‘What’s the matter?’ Marion asked.

‘Nothing,’ I said. ‘Just that there isn’t much time if I’m to do anything, and I don’t know what to do.’

‘No, I don’t mean that. I knew that would worry you. But you seemed so strange when you came out.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. I felt suddenly scared of losing my one ally. Almost unnoticed an intimacy, deeper than just the words we spoke to each other, had grown up between us. It seemed so easy to break the thread that made that intimacy — it was so indefinable, so slight. ‘It’s just that I’m tired and worried.’

‘Hadn’t you better tell Winton or someone in authority all you know?’ she pleaded.

‘Yes, but what do I know? Nothing. I’ve told John Nightingale. He didn’t laugh at me, thank God! That’s the best I can do. The rest is up to me.’

‘But what can you possibly do?’

‘I don’t know. I shall have to get to this Cold Harbour Farm tonight.’

‘But how? You won’t be able to get leave, will you?’

‘No. I’ll just have to take a chance on breaking camp.’

‘But you can’t possibly do that.’ The anxiety in her voice gave me a perverted thrill. ‘You might get shot.’

I laughed a little wildly. “That wouldn’t be anything new,’ I declared. “They’ve already had two attempts at shooting me.’

‘Barry!’ Her hand gripped my arm. ‘You didn’t mean that. You’re not serious, surely.’

I told her about the bullet that had hit the back of my tin hat during the previous day’s raid and about the burst of tracers that had streamed past me from the dispersal point that morning.

‘But why don’t you tell your officer?’

‘Because I can’t prove anything,’ I said, exasperated.

‘Oh, if you want to be obstinate, be obstinate,’ she said, her eyes wide and two angry spots of colour showing in her cheeks.

‘But don’t you understand,’ I said, ‘in each case they might easily have been accidents? Ogilvie would just think the raid had upset me and I should be sent off to Battery for a rest. It’s no good. I’ve just got to get to Cold Harbour Farm tonight. That reminds me,’ I added suddenly. ‘John Nightingale promised to get me Ordnance Survey maps for southeast England. But he can’t. He baled out in a dog-fight this afternoon. God knows where he is. And I must have those maps, otherwise I can’t tell where the wretched place is. Have you got any in Ops.?’

‘Yes, but I can’t take them away.’

‘No, but you could search through them. It would take some time, I know, but — ‘

‘I certainly will not,’ she cut in. ‘I’ll do nothing to help you embark on this crazy expedition.’

My troubles seemed suddenly to roll away as I gazed down at her defiant, anxious little face. That’s kind of you, Marion. But please — you must help me. It’s just as dangerous if I stay here. And if I didn’t go and what I am afraid of happened, you’d never forgive yourself, I know.’

She hesitated.

‘Please,’ I said. ‘It’s the only chance.’

‘But you can’t be certain that what I heard Elaine say in her sleep had any deep significance.’

‘Yes, but what about the injured workman?’

‘I can understand your regarding the coincidence of their both speaking of Cold Harbour Farm as significant, but Elaine’s birthday probably has no bearing on the business.’

‘Three more fighter ‘dromes were attacked today,’ I said. ‘During the last three or four days practically every fighter station of any size in southeast England has had a bad pasting. It just happens that the date of her birthday is about the time I think they will strike if they’re going to. Your arguments are just the sort of arguments that I know would be raised by the authorities if I went to them. I’ve made up my mind that I’m on the right track. The only question now is, will you help me or not, Marion?’

She didn’t say anything, and for a moment I thought she was going to refuse.

‘Well?’ I asked her, and again I was speaking abruptly, for I was afraid that I had lost her as an ally.

‘Of course I will,’ she said simply. But she spoke slowly, as though considering something. Then suddenly she became businesslike, almost brusque. ‘I’ll go and look through those maps right away. I’ll come back and tell you the result of my labours as soon as possible.’

‘You’ll find it somewhere in the centre of a ring drawn round the fighter ‘dromes, I expect,’ I said as she turned to go.

‘I understand,’ she said.

I watched her walk briskly away, thinking how strange it was that people should have different sides to their personalities. I had just seen Marion for the first time as the efficient secretary. My God! I thought, and she would be efficient too. What a wife for a journalist! The thought was in my mind before I realised it. And suddenly I knew that she was the one girl for me. And then I kicked myself mentally as I realised that I had been thinking only of the things she could give me, and had not given a thought to what I could give her. And what could I give her? ‘Hell!’ I said aloud. And then went back into the hut as I saw Fuller looking at me curiously.

The next few hours dragged terribly. I was not afraid, thank Heavens! I had something concrete to do now and there was no room in my thoughts for fear. But as the evening wore slowly on I experienced the sinking sensation that one gets just before a big match. I passed part of the time reconnoitring my line of escape. The barbed wire, I knew, would not be difficult to negotiate. It was dannert, that coiled wire which is stretched so that it stands in hoops. By parting two of the hoops it was fairly easy to step through it. It was the sentries I was worried about. I went over and had a chat with the Guards’ corporal at the neighbouring pill-box. By fairly persistent, but not too obvious questioning, I discovered that there was roughly one sentry to each five hundred yards of wire. There were also some sentries in the wood along the valley. But they were very few — one at each end. They were supposed to meet in the middle once every hour. There was a path running through the middle of the wood. These shouldn’t worry me, but because they were the

unknown factor they worried me a good deal more than the sentries along the wire.

Marion did not turn up until nearly ten. I was on stand-to then. I went out of the pit to meet her. ‘I think I’ve got it,’ she said as I reached her. ‘I found two. One down in Romney Marshes. That isn’t any good, is it?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘Nightingale told me of that one.’