Hammond Innes - Air Bridge

Then something moved in the bushes to my left. It moved again, nearer this time. I raised the gun to my shoulder. There was the sound of earth being dislodged and the rattle of dry bramble branches almost at my side. I fired at the sound. From behind me, echoing the sound of my own shot, the revolver smacked a bullet into the ground at my feet. I swung round, realising how he’d fooled me by throwing earth into the undergrowth. I saw his figure crouched against the stars and let off my second barrel at it. There was a grunt and a curse as something thudded to the ground. Desperately I broke my gun and fumbled in my pocket for the cartridges.

When the gun was loaded I started forward. I knew I had to finish it off now. If I didn’t I should lose my nerve. I sensed that in the trembling of my hands. I had to finish it one way or the other. Crouched low I could see his body close to the ground as he waited for me. Whatever happened now I was close enough for the shotgun to be effective. I steeled myself to the jolt of a bullet hitting. I’d let him have both barrels. Wherever he got me I’d still have time to fire.

But I didn’t have to. Even when I was so close I could have blown the top of his head off he did not move. He was crouched in an unnatural position, his head bent almost to the ground, his fingers dug deeply into the hard earth. Beside him his torch glimmered faintly in the starlight. The chromium was all wet and sticky as I picked it up and when I flicked it on I saw the metal was badly dented and filmed with blood. I turned him over on to his back and as I did so his service revolver slipped from between his fingers. His left arm was all bloody, the hand horribly pitted by the shot. There was a livid bruise above his left temple and the skin had split. But apart from this he didn’t seem badly hurt and his breathing was quite natural. I think what had happened was that the main weight of my shot had struck the torch and flung it against the side of his head. There was no doubt that he’d been knocked clean out.

I picked up the revolver and slipped it into my pocket. I turned then and went back into the lane through a gap in the bramble hedge. It was fortunate that the torch hadn’t been put out of action, because I was feeling dizzy and very faint as I staggered up the track and without its light I’m not at all sure I should have been able to find my way back to the farm.

I was pretty Well all in by the time I reached the side door. I remember slumping against it, beating on it with my hands. But they had no strength and all I achieved was a faint scrabbling as I slid to the ground. Probably Else was listening for me. At any rate I never sang a bar of the Meistersingers, but when I came round I was in a chair by the kitchen fire and Else was cutting the blood-soaked clothes away from the wound in my shoulder. As she saw my eyes open her hand reached up and she pushed her fingers through my hair. ‘You are always in the wars, Neil.’ She smiled softly. ‘I think you need someone to look after you.’

‘Where’s Kleffmann?’ I asked her.

‘Hier.’ His big figure bent over me. ‘What is it?’

I gave him the revolver and told him to go down the lane and get Saeton. ‘If he’s still there I don’t think he’ll give you much trouble,’ I said.

‘What happened?’ Else asked.

As I told her Frau Kleffmann came in with a bowl of hot water. Else began to bathe the wound and the warmth of the water took some of the numbness out of it. ‘I think the bullet is still there,’ Else said after peering at the torn flesh with the aid of a torch.

‘Well, patch me up the best you can,’ I said. ‘I’ve got to fly.’

‘To fly?’

‘Yes. The truck is gone. Kurt cleared off as soon as he heard our shots. Our only way out now is Saeton’s plane.’

‘But the airfield is more than a mile from here,’ Else pointed out. ‘I do not think you will be able to walk so far.’

‘Perhaps not. We’ll borrow a horse and cart from the Kleffmanns. I’ve no doubt they’ll be only too glad to speed the parting guests.’ I tried to smile at my little joke, but I didn’t seem able to make the effort. I felt sick and tired. As soon as Else had finished dressing my wound I got her and Frau Kleffmann to harness one of the farm horses. They had got Tubby’s body on to the cart and I was sitting in it by the time Kleffmann returned with Saeton. It was lucky that the farmer was a big man, for Saeton was still unconscious. He carried him slung over his shoulders in a fireman’s lift and when he reached the cart he dumped the body into the muck of the farmyard like a sack of potatoes.

‘Ready?’ he asked me.

‘Yes, I’m ready,’ I said. I was anxious to be off. The plane was my only hope of getting back to Berlin. I knew the Kleffmanns wouldn’t shelter us after what had happened, and every minute the plane stood out there in the airfield it ran the risk of being spotted by a Red Army patrol.

Else helped Kleffmann load Saeton’s body on to the cart. Then he climbed up and clicked his tongue at the horse. Frau Kleffmann opened the gate for us. She spoke quickly and urgently to her husband. He nodded and the cart jolted over the frozen ruts into the lane. I called goodbye to her, but she did not answer. She just stood there, a frozen expression on her face, glad to see us go.

Kleffmann had returned the revolver to me and I kept my left hand on the butt as it lay in the pocket of my coat. My eyes were on Saeton’s unconscious body as we jolted towards the woods. Rain clouds were spreading across the night sky and when we entered the woods it was as dark as pitch. Nobody spoke and the only sound was the creaking of the cart and an occasional snort from the horse. I kept my foot against Saeton’s body. The cart jolted in the ruts and each jolt was like a knife stabbing at the blade of my shoulder. Else had seated herself so that I could lean against her and she seemed conscious of my pain, for when it was very bad she would slip her hand over my left arm.

We must have been about half-way through the woods when Saeton stirred. He lay groaning for a moment and then he sat up. I could see his face, a pale oval in the darkness. My hand tightened automatically on the gun in my pocket. ‘Don’t move,’ I told him. ‘I’ve got a gun. If you move I’ll shoot.’

There was a long silence. Then he said, ‘That’s you is it, Neil?’

‘Yes,’ I told him.

He was sitting up now and he gave a little cry of pain as he shifted his position. ‘What happened?’

I didn’t say anything. He could think it out for himself. The silence became heavy as the memory of Tubby’s death came to all of us. ‘Where’s Tubby?’ he asked at length. ‘Did you — bury him?’

‘No. His body is beside you in the cart.’

He said, ‘My God! Why couldn’t you leave him there?’ And then silence descended on us again. I tried not to think of what Tubby looked like there under the blanket. The pain helped. It wrenched at my mind and made it difficult to think. I clung to the gun. If he made any move I’d use it. Maybe he sensed that, for he stayed quite still all the way through the woods.

At last we were out of the trees and dragging slowly across the flat expanse of the airfield. It was very dark. Isolated drops of rain began to fall. ‘Where did you leave the plane?’ I asked Saeton.

He didn’t answer. Maybe he thought if he said nothing we might fail to find it. I peered anxiously into the darkness ahead. The cart jolted endlessly in the black void. Maybe the horse could see when we couldn’t. At any rate the plane was suddenly there right in front of us, a shadowy, insubstantial shape. Kleffmann reined in the horse and turned to me. ‘I think it is better if one of us goes and has a look round there.’