Hammond Innes - Attack Alarm

But at last he turned and resumed his measured pacing along the wire. He did not pause again, and finally disappeared into the little stretch of wood through which the wire ran. This wood was not more than fifty yards away to my left. Had time been less pressing, I should have waited until he came back along his beat and was walking away from me to the north. That would have been the safest thing to do. I could then have made certain that his back was towards me. But my watch showed the time to be already three thirty-five. If I waited until he returned it might easily be another quarter of an hour before I could cross the wire. I dared not wait that long. I had to chance it.

I raised my head up out of the grass. There was no sign of any other sentry patrolling the wire. I rose to my feet and, crouched low, made for the wire.

There was no retreat now. I reached the wire and parted the near side of a coil with my gloved hands. I did not even glance in the direction of the wood. If he were standing there watching me, there was nothing I could do about it. My whole attention was concentrated on getting through that wire in the quickest possible time. Had the slope been down instead of up, I am certain I should have risked jumping it. As it was I had to follow the more laborious procedure of climbing through it. And the angle of the slope made it more difficult.

I slipped into the gap I had made in the near side of the coil and then, pressing the farther side apart, swung my right leg high over the wire into the gap.

‘Halt! Who goes there?’

The challenge rang out clear and startling in the stillness. I froze, the barbs of the wire cutting into the flesh between my legs. Instinctively I looked in the direction of the wood. But before my eyes had seen that there was no one there, I had realised that the challenge had come from the opposite direction. As I turned my head I heard the sound of a man running. He was coming along the wire, up out of the dip, as fast as his equipment would allow him. His rifle, its bayonet gleaming, was held at the ready.

For an instant panic seized me. I wanted to run. But I was still astride the crossed coils of the wire. Before I could get clear he would have ample time to pick me off. I waited. There was nothing else I could do. The sweat broke out on my forehead with the sense of frustration that overwhelmed me. There was the hut and the gun pit. They were not more than fifty yards away and so plain in the moonlight that I could almost believe myself there. Just fifty yards between success and failure. It was heartbreaking. But perhaps Micky would get through.

‘What are ye doing?’ The man had halted a few yards from me and I saw his thumb on the safety catch of his rifle. He was a Scots Guard, big and heavily built, with a flattened nose and large hands.

‘Trying to get through the wire,’ I said. ‘Do you mind if I get my other leg over? It isn’t very comfortable in this position.’

‘All raight. But dinna play ony tricks. If ye du I’ll no hesitate to shoot.’

‘I won’t play any tricks,’ I said. I pressed the wire down and swung my other leg over. I managed it better this time and did not lose my balance.

‘Why are ye creeping into the camp like this?’ he demanded.

‘I broke camp,’ I replied. ‘That’s my gun site over there. I had a good reason for doing so.’

‘Och, mon, it willna du.’ He shook his head. ‘Ye’ve got yerself in an awfu’ mess.’

‘Look,’ I said. ‘Be a sport. I had my own reasons for breaking camp.’

‘Ye canna wheedle me. I know my duty. Ye’re under arrest.’

Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Micky creeping up on the wire. I moved a little farther along so that the sentry had to turn away from Micky in order to keep facing me.’ Stand still!’ The rifle jerked threateningly.

‘Give me a break,’ I said. ‘We’ve been in this place more than a month without leave. We haven’t even had any local leave.’ Micky was at the wire now. ‘I had to see someone. It was urgent. The only way I could do it was by breaking camp. I bet you haven’t been long in this place. You’d understand if you had.’ I was scarcely thinking what I was saying. Anything would do so long as it kept his attention away from Micky, who was now clambering through the wire.

‘That sort o’ talk willna get ye onywhere.’ The man was ruffled. I felt he would like to have let me go, but he didn’t dare. ‘Ye’ll have to see the corporal. Ye might be a German parachutist for all I ken. Come on, now. Get going.’

At that moment there was a dull thud along the wire. Micky had lost his balance and fallen flat on his face.

The sentry swung round. Instantly his rifle was at his shoulder. ‘Halt!’

Micky had just got to his feet again. His head jerked quickly in our direction. His face looked very pale in the moonlight. I could even see his eyes. They were南arrowed and shifty looking. His momentary hesitation was obvious. In a flash my mind wondered how often he had looked at a policeman in that same indecisive manner. Suddenly he dived forward. He looked like a little rabbit scuttling to cover towards the hut.

‘Halt, or I fire!’ The sentry’s thumb pressed the safety catch forward.

I jumped forward. ‘Don’t fire!’- I said. ‘He’s my pal. Don’t fire!’

Micky might think he had a chance, but he was not a fast runner and he was not attempting to zigzag. To a good marksman he was an absolute sitter.

‘Micky!’ I yelled. ‘Micky! Stop!’

He glanced over his shoulder. I waved to him. ‘Come over here,’ I called. ‘Quick!’ And in practically the same breath I said to the Guardsman, ‘Hold your fire. He’s all right — only scared of being caught.’

Micky had stopped, doubtful what to do. ‘Come over here!’ I called to him again. Reluctantly he began to walk in our direction.

The sentry lowered his rifle. He turned to me. ‘Will ye tell me what’s going on here? Are there ony mair of ye?’

‘No,’ I replied. ‘There’s only two of us. And I didn’t break camp to meet my girl friend. We broke camp to get certain vital information from men we knew to be Nazi agents.’

‘It willna du.’ He shook his head. ‘Ye’d best tell the truth when ye see the corporal. Come on now. March!’ By changing my story I had lost his sympathy. It was a pity. But it couldn’t be helped. Pray God the corporal wasn’t a fool. The sentry fell in behind me. ‘Gang straight for that pill-box oop yonder.’

Micky joined me. He was still panting slightly. ‘Why the hell did you call me?’ he demanded gruffly, as he fell into step beside me. ‘I could ‘a’ made it.’

‘You could not,’ I told him.

‘I thought this information was important. It was worth the risk, wasn’t it?’

‘It wouldn’t have helped to have you shot,’ I said. ‘He couldn’t have missed at that range.’

He didn’t reply to that and we walked on in silence. We climbed the final slope of the hill. The pill-box, which was about a hundred yards to the north of our hut, looked squat and menacing in the moonlight.

‘Corporal! Corporal!’ called our guard as we approached the low concrete and brick structure. ‘Corporal!’

The corporal in charge came out, crouching to get through the low entrance of the pill-box. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes as he came up to us. He was short for a Guardsman, and he had reddish hair and a sharp, rather bitter face. This was going to be difficult.

‘What’s all this?’ he demanded. There was only the faintest trace of a Scottish accent.

‘A’ caught these two getting into the camp over the wire, Corporal.’ Our guard nodded in my direction. ‘First this laddie says he broke camp to meet his lassie. Then when I challenge the other laddie he says they broke camp together in order to get some information aboot Nazi agents. They say they belong to the gun over yonder.’